#but it does explain some other things so Ill let it slide

[arolesbianism]

Head in hands how am I so bad at reading (<- just realized that one of the logs it thought was an Olivia log was in fact a Jackie log this whole time)

[cupidsanne]

Mike Faist As Your Husband ✢ Headcanons

Mike Faist x Female Insert! Reader

SYNOPSIS! ✦ Headcanons and slight blurbs of Mike being your husband <3 I need more content of this man asap.

WARNINGS! ✦ No warnings, sfw!

Mike Faist Masterlist .

— He hasn’t changed much since you two gotten married.

— He’s very bashful, even with you. You two could be together for days, months, or years and he still gets shy with certain things you say. He can’t always take compliments but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like them. In fact, he loves to be praised by you. You’re his biggest cheerleader.

“Here you go.” You smile as you hand Mike his water bottle, he had no hesitated in politely accepting the bottle and offered a breathless ‘thank you’ in return. The two of you were currently at the gym, both of you having some free time and decided that it would be a healthy bonding experience for both of you. It took a while to set in motion this plan for the reason that the both of you were home bodies. Preferring to stay inside then to get up and out there.

“I think I’m finished on the bike for tonight. I reached my limit!” You explained in a tired tone as he set the hand held weights on the ground that he was holding previously to take a sip of his water.

“Cool. We can head out now if you want.” Mike suggested, not wanting to make you wait around for him.

You shook your head. “It’s no problem! I’ll wait in the lounge area and relax while you do your thing. Besides,” You made a sly expression. “You look so attractive working out!”

“Shut up!” Mike said immediately. He looked down at the weights beneath his feet as you laughed and walked away. A smile spread across his face.

— Not to mention, he’s your biggest cheerleader too! Sure, you two do friendly banter a lot, and he’ll tease you with nicknames but never will ill intentions or to put you down in anyway. He’s aware of your achievements and your talents. As much as he doesn’t always take compliments, he loves to give them.

— He’s a gentlemen, through and through. Opening the doors for you, giving you his coat/jacket if you’re ever cold, walking on the side closest to the road whenever you two are on a sidewalk, ect.

— Till this day, you always feel a bit fuzzy inside for all the little things he does, but to him these are just acts that are same old, same old to him. It’s his love language, and how he expresses his affection!

— Another way he expresses his affection, is through physical touch. Not in a crazy way like “I need to kiss you all day and basically be in your skin.” but he likes that subtle physical touch. Not saying that he doesn’t like to kiss you, because trust me he does.

— He likes just being side by side with you, just the warmth and the closeness is nice to him. It used to have him flustered being so close to a girl he really likes, but now that you two are married, it’s not a stress to him anymore.

— He thinks being side by side is great, it’s easier to talk to you that way, and let’s him get a look at you closely. Let’s him take notice of the gloss that is shining on your lips, or the way your eyelashes may be curled more than usual, things like that. If you two are in a booth at a restaurant, you bet he’s gonna slide in the booth right next to you, instead of across.

— Hand holding is a big thing for him too. He holds your hands no matter how he’s feeling. It brings him a sense of comfort. He isn’t a huge PDA person, but he likes the little sweet things like that.

It was a starry night as you and Mike sat side by side, in front of a backyard campfire while talking to a couple of friends. Autumn was rolling in and nights were becoming colder. Everyone had a warm drink or a beer in hand, reminiscing about anything and everything with each other. Just having a good time.

“Scooch closer.” Mike complained to you quietly, not wanting to interrupt the conversation that your friends were having. “You’re shivering like a chihuahua!”

“I can’t help it!” You muttered before coming in closer. The both of you were bundled up in some jackets, but after basking in the summer sun for months, the new coldness of this season is gonna take some getting used to. As you moved in closer to him, he moved a bit on the bench himself and stuck one of your hands into his warm pockets. You thought how sweet of this was of him, and how come men always get warmer and thicker clothing then ladies do??

You smiled up at him as you leaned your head on his shoulder. Sharing his warmth and listening in on your friend’s conversations.

— Everyone always talks about how you and Mike are both clowns. Always dropping jokes in any situation and matching each other’s energy. You and Mike aren’t at a function if you two aren’t laughing or making clever quips about something.

— You just can’t help yourselves. You guys don’t try to present yourselves as being inconsiderate, but that’s just how you guys are wired!

— Most the time it goes that Mike says something witty, and you laugh about it and have to finish it off. He than eggs it on and it’s just loose from there. Some people don’t know that you and Mike were friends before your relationship, and still are now. He says till this day you’re his best friend.

— It’s already enough that you two have inside jokes, like if something happens and you two give each other the look, then start busting out laughing. It’s a common occurrence. People either love it or hate it and that’s not y’all’s fault!

— Joking around and the occasional gossip is how you to spend quality time together. Which is another one of his love languages.

— The down side about this is, a lot of times you two will have to go through a long distance relationship. He’s an actor and they demand him to be in many places at once. You don’t like it, and neither does he, but you make it work.

— The two of you video chat all the time when he’s away. You talk about each other’s days and experiences, whether it’s meaningless or not.

— Whenever he’s away, you guys gossip and do skincare stuff over the phone. Mostly it’s you doing your skincare while he’s just watching you talk. He’s still involved in the conversation though!

— Although he loves when you come and visit him whenever he’s away, he loves it most when he’s home. Mike is very much a homebody, he likes staying in and not having to go out super often.

— In his earlier years, he was really career focused and hardly had any time to relax and take a moment in. Now that that he’s older, and still working, he’s not afraid to wind down sometimes and take a break.

— He definitely rubbed off on you, because you enjoy staying in now too. Cuddled up together watching TV, or cooking together in the kitchen while some jazz music plays, it’s the dream.

— Of course, you two don’t mind getting dolled up and fancy to go out somewhere exciting, but the best moments are at home where you’re comfortable.

— Just Him, You, and his dog Austin. (Sorry, You’re gonna have to be a dog person!) Just relaxing in a cozy townhouse, watching movies.

— Since Mike has quite a bit of following, and has made a career of himself. The press and his fans are aware that he’s married.

— We’re all aware how Mike isn’t a social media user, or doesn’t speak much about himself to the press because he likes to keep his life private. Yet, that doesn’t make you two a secret. He just doesn’t want all your business out there.

“Welcome Mike!” The interviewer greeted happily to to the actor over the screen. “Thank you for joining us today, how’ve you been?”

Mike was scheduled for a video interview, even though covid wasn’t as hectic now, he still likes to be safe and doesn’t wish to travel as much if he doesn’t have to. Plus, video chatting is becoming more normalized now. “Hi, thank you for having me and I’m doing great.”

“Good, are you finally back home with your family and all that?” The interviewer questioned.

“Yeah, I just arrived back from London, two weeks ago? Although I love working but I love to be home too. To see my family, friends, and get back to my wife and such.” Mike explained. He wouldn’t say he would get homesick, because of how passionate he is about what he does, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t home greatly.

The interviewer smiled a great deal. “Yes, I totally get that! I can see the photo of what I think— is you and your wife, in the back?”

Mike looked over his shoulder to see a photo frame on the console table behind him. It was decked out in small photos as well as some decorations that were relevant to the season, all by you of course. He reached behind him to bring the photo frame up close to his laptop screen.

“Yeah this is us right here. This is one of the photos from our wedding.” He pointed out. Showing off the photo closer a bit before setting it back down to where it was.

“That’s so cute! How long have you two been married? If you don’t mind me asking.” The interviewer inquired.

“About a year now. It feels like only a few months honestly. Time flies for sure.” Mike chuckled a bit. The interviewer chuckled alongside him.

“Especially when you’re in love! Time going fast is a great thing.” The interviewer added.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

— He doesn’t nor ever want to hide the fact that he’s taken. He’s proud of his relationship with you and if people don’t like that, then that’s their problem.

— If you have a wide social media following (In case you are celebrity!) than you don’t hide the fact you’re together either. If this is the case, fans actually adore you because you’re the one posting him, providing the fans some content.

— But, if you’re like him and not a celebrity, or even someone who likes to have your life on the down low, then that’s fine too. He doesn’t need for you to post him to feel some validation.

— Overall, he’s a great husband to have. He’d do anything for you and is grateful that he’s yours. He wouldn’t want to have you any other way. <3

[didyoulookforme]

i’ve had a very bad cold for the past day and that just makes me think of stylist girlie getting ill during the middle of tour and matty having to take care of her to the best of his ability. nothing special, just me projecting lol

———

that morning when he comes to her bunk and brings over her usual chamomile tea, she’s still wrapped up in her blankets burrito-style and matty’s all suggestive like “had a rough night…?” wink wink because it’s them. however, it doesn’t take long for him to realize that her voice is mostly gone and something is actually wrong. she begrudgingly pushes him away, saying that she doesn’t feel well at all and matty’s visibly heartbroken because she looks so tired and that sparkle in her eyes is dim and grey. they sip their drinks in mostly silence, matty every once in a while saying something to try and make her laugh, which does work, but she’s obviously exhausted and he knows it. “get some rest, baby, okay?”

out of habit, he goes in to kiss her but she absolutely cannot get him sick during the middle of tour, so she stops him and matty looks like a lost puppy because he cannot kiss his girl. he just has to kiss his palm and the put it against her cheek and that small gesture makes her heart flutter even if she feels like shit. nothing like the real thing ofc, but it means the world to her.

for the next couple of days, matty will always come over, bring her tea and medicine asap, with him sitting at the bottom of her bed. he will rub her feet while they chat about the previous night, matty forever repeating how it doesn’t really feel the same when she’s not up there on the side stage waiting for him. of course, he doesn’t let her get out of bed and babies her even though she’s technically the one that’s supposed to take care of him. it’s nice, though, knowing that super famous frontman matty healy is basically doing anything and everything to make sure she feels better.

there’s no shortage of beautiful gestures from him during that time she has to spend on the tour bus. him sending flowers. getting her favourite food delivered. texting to see how shes feeling but not too often as he knows girlie likes her sleep and needs it. she insists on matty facetiming her to still help pick his outfit for that night, spending about half hour trying to explain how to do a bow tie, her doing her best not to laugh at how frustrated he gets and just ending up going shirtless in the end. silly boy.

then after four or five days, when she finally feels much better and alive, she’s the one who wakes up first (probably too early as no one is up yet). she tiptoes over to matty’s bunk and slides in as gently and quietly as possible to cuddle up to him, missing his warmth and presence right next to her. doesn’t take long at all for him to stir awake, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to pull her in close to his chest and finally kiss her after what’s felt like ages. the small moans from his lips are nothing short of heavenly, accompanied with a mix of missed this, i love you, so happy you’re feeling better, sweetheart. they spend the next couple of hours cuddled up, kissing, falling asleep, caressing each other, not wanting to break away because it’s all perfect <3

[twistedastrology]

- let's talk about pop astrology. -

----------------------------------------------------------

u can tell from the singular period in the title that this is not gonna be very positive So let's talk abt why i absolutely hate pop astrology!!!!!!!

and to be fair i will recognize what good pop astrology has done, it popularized the subject ofc and it is partially the reason i got into astrology, so while i cant be Too mad at it, i Did get into astrology thru pop astrology to essentially disprove pop astrology soo... 😵‍💫

real quick btw, and this does actually have significance in this post im not just promoting it to promote it, i have an ig now for my astrology stuff- @twistedastrology on ig go follow me there if u fuck with ig-

But if u saw my about me post on there, you'll have seen the slide where i talked abt why i actually got into astrology- to save you some time ill put it here, but please do go follow me on ig anyway if u like what i do and wanna support me 😵‍💫

like i said, when i got into astrology, i instantly noticed how many of the same keywords were regurgitated for everything.

that's what i notice most in pop astrology.

pop astrology is where everyone says cancers are crybabies, leos are narcissists, aries are hotheaded and impulsive, capricorns are cold and unemotional, geminis are two-faced, etc.

unfortunately and also fortunately at the same time, i have ungodly pattern recognition in just about everything, so of course i was gonna notice the same thing being said about the same sign and the same house and the same planet over and over again-

and to clarify before we continue (random disclaaaimeerrrrr- hey. dont do Anything that i say in this song-), this is what i personally have observed and experienced with pop astrology, im not sayin that it's All like this, but im talkin abt the very surface level, shallow kinda stuff.

that kinda stuff is what made me not resonate with my rising sign and be incredibly confused by my sun sign-

i would read "what ur like based on ur rising!!!! Cancer: U cry too much." and feel so shitty bro- id have to go look at every other sign to see which one i resonated with more and it was very rarely one of my big 3.

so naturally i was incredibly confused abt astrology but for me, that didnt deter me.

the stereotypes and stuff offered by pop astrology are incredibly harmful and play a huge part in making people not believe in astrology as a whole.

say someone's an aries sun and they read one of those posts for aries sun right- the post says something along the lines of "ur incredibly impulsive, ambitious and extroverted!!! u probably cant control ur anger" and it doesn't resonate whatsoever because guess what their rising sign is capricorn (side note: why do i always manage to default to aries/capricorn in my examples im gonna laugh 😭😭😭) and their saturn is in cap too-

but ofc they wouldnt know their rising or their saturn sign bc those aren't focused on in pop astrology- it's all sun, moon and rising-

the sun, in my opinion, is actually one of the least important placements in a natal chart- and i can do an entire post on my take on the sun dont worry i actually rly want to- but to explain why i think that real quick, the sun is the culmination of the chart, it's not its own placement.

so every other placement in your chart has influence over it, that's why i never related to taurus sun stuff because i dont have any other earth placements in my chart and mercury in gemini is my dominant planet- so i had to look at gemini sun stuff, but i didnt know that until i was like knee deep into astrology.

stereotypes are not only harmful, but also largely inaccurate.

and pop astrology also loves to convey the understanding that astrology can be segmented into little pieces, when it absolutely cannot.

"what drives u based on ur mars sign!! cancer mars: ur family :))))" Die.

BUT- say someone Does actually relate to that!!! there's 2 possibilities: they relate to it and they have mars in cancer OR they relate to it and they Don't have mars in cancer

in both of these scenarios, we are completely overlooking the rest of the chart-

you can't make astrology bite sized without also stripping it of all depth. but you can't deliver in depth astrology without it being overwhelming.

kind of a lose-lose, huh?

here's where we need to understand astrology as if it is a science.

astrology is literally an ecosystem, this is how ive always viewed it. you can't interpret one planet on it's own without taking into consideration the aspects it has to it, the degree it's in, the signs that the planets aspecting it are in.

this is scary, yes, and a great way to ward off beginners, absolutely. But if you think it's scary, then you're overlooking the beauty of learning about something that's an ecosystem.

the beauty is you can't interpret one thing on its own, because everything else will follow.

you cant sit down and learn one thing, because you'll learn a whole slew of things and feel like it's never ending- which can be overwhelming for some and satisfying for others.

imagine walking on a floor covered in wires that are tangled with each other. you kneel down and try to pick up one wire and while you can see part of it clearly, it also brings up like 500 other wires for you to untangle as well.

that's what learning astrology is like.

in my experience, i picked up mercury, and mercury brought with it gemini, saturn, what sextiles are, what conjunctions are, the sun, degree theory, aries, and it just kept going.

and the more wires you pick up, the more wires they bring with them.

this is why i hate pop astrology so much- they're picking up one wire, cutting both visible ends of it and ripping it out of tangled mess that is the floor we stand on.

now we don't know where the rest of that wire is because it was forcibly removed from the bunch.

SO! this is why i try so hard to make these posts and explain how literally Everything depends.

"what about mercury in this sign?"

"ya sure! so here's what i think it Could mean, but ultimately it depends."

"depends on..?"

"the entire rest of the chart."

"oh."

anyway i think im abt done yapping now but i hope this made sense- i think the next post i do will probably be the sun one so be on the lookout for that- and again i have an ig for astrology stuff now, link is at the top here- and i have plans to eventually probably make a tiktok as well for astrology but im still figuring that out so ill let you know what happens with that But!!!

thank u for reading i appreciate u and dont be afraid to think in depth abt vast concepts, that is where the mind is exalted 🙏🙏

[carolmunson]

you can count on me (nurse!s.h.)

inspired by: i'll be home for christmas brought to you in part by carol's christmas song blitz, holiday cheer, and viewers like you. a/n: i cried while writing this, so good fuckin' luck. cw: 18+ minors dni, hurt/comfort, sad/complicated family dynamics, lots of hospital talk (but i don't know shit about nursing or hospitals so i'm sorry if any of this is just blatantly wrong), mentions of illness/cancer, talk of death, overall holiday stress. mentions/discussion of WWII and the korean war, some slight homophobia, religious references (praying/heaven/'upstairs'), but on the bright side the party is featured and nurse!steve is a total flirt, so.

Christmas Eve, 1974

“I’ll be home for Christmas. You can plan on me. Please have snow and mistletoe, and presents by the tree…”

“Grandpa, why do you always have to sing this song? It’s so sad,” Steve asked, curling onto his side to face his grandfather. He smiled, running a hand over the boy’s hair, a little chuckle rattled his lungs.  “Says who, sport?” he asks, creases on his face crinkling in faux offense. “Says daddy, says me. Daddy says it’s like if a funeral came for Christmas dinner,” Steve crosses his arms under the covers.  “It’s not a sad song to me, kiddo. Came out the year I was far away from your grandma,” he explains, “They played it a lot when we were away – but I got to go home that year and surprise ‘er. It was playing in the diner when I walked in to say hello and she cried and cried – cried like a baby, kissed me all over my face.”  “Ew,” Steve teased and laughed, “That’s gross. Girls are gross grandpa.” 

“They won’t be so gross when you’re old like me,” he laughed back at Steve, tickling him on the tummy, “But I don’t think it’s a sad song, buddy – it reminds me of how much I love Grammy.”  “So it’s a happy song, even though the words are sad?” Steve asked. He’s too young to understand, but that’s expected for such a little kid.  

“Songs are whatever you make of ‘em,” his grandpa shrugged, tucking the covers around Steve while his eyes drooped with sleep, “But I gotta finish singing so you go to bed, or else Santa won’t come.” 

“Okay, okay,” Steve smiled as his eyes fluttered closed, the soft hum of his grandfather’s voice sending him off for the seventh Christmas Eve in a row. 

Christmas Eve, 1979

“He’s always at the office, he’s never even here. And then when he is, he’s just –” Steve’s eyes brimmed with tears, hugging his knees to his chest on his bed spread, “God damn it, he’s so mean.” Steve’s grandfather lets out a big breath, clapping a hand to his grandson’s shoulder, “I think your dad is just really overworked, kiddo. He’s tired.”  “We’re all tired, grandpa,” Steve groans. He can’t believe the types of grown up things come out of his grandson’s mouth sometimes. 

“All he does is talk about how much – how much better I can be to his friends. Like I’m not good enough for him now,” the tears spill over onto his cheeks, sliding past his running nose, the mole near his jaw, “Like ‘Steve could be varsity his freshman year if he just gets that three-pointer right. It’s looking rough,’ or like, like, ‘Don’t think my Steve’s gonna be in any honors classes, maybe your kid can tutor him’” 

“You heard him Grandpa! He might as well have just – I don’t know – stood on the coffee table and told everyone h-how much – h-how much I s-suck at every-everything! Like I’m his favorite j-joke to tell at the w-watercooler. ‘Oh all he got from me was the good looking genes, other than that, not sure who’s kid he is.’” 

“Well your mother is very pretty. I would know, she’s my daughter,” he says softly, “So I think you got a lot of those genes from her.” 

He runs a hand over his bald head and smiles, “Maybe not my hair genes though.” 

Steve lets out a weak laugh, “It’s not funny, Grandpa.” 

“It’s a little funny,” he nods, a chuckle making his heavy shoulders bounce in his suit jacket. Steve laughs a little stronger, their laughs bouncing off each other, laughing from laughing, then laughing some more. 

“You know something buddy, I’ve been around a long time. I’ve met a lot of people like your dad,” he starts, “And I when it comes to people like that, it’s important to just be kind.” 

“But why? He’s not kind,” Steve argued, brows furrowing behind his new glasses. Another thing his dad teased him relentlessly over. ‘Shoulda named you Steve ‘Four-Eyes’ Harrington, kid.’ 

“I find the most unkind people need kindness the most,” he encourages, “And even if he’s still acting mean, at least you know you were the bigger man, right?” 

“I guess,” Steve shrugs, “Why do you think dad needs kindness? Everyone kisses his ass. You saw them down there.” 

The new tradition of the Harrington Office Christmas Party instead of the Harrington Family Christmas Party was weighing heavily on just about everyone. The time when they were supposed to be the closest and coziest quickly became the coldest. If this is how his dad was at home with his friends, Steve could only imagine what he says about him when he’s not there. 

“I’ll bet you your dad’s not very kind to himself,” he confesses, “So he doesn’t know how to be nice to other people.” 

“Well that’s too bad for him, then,” Steve broods. His grandpa barks another laugh. 

“That is too bad for him, isn’t it, sport?” he gets up, motioning for Steve to get comfortable before he starts to sing, “Gotta get to bed, Steve. It’s late – Santa’s not gonna make it if you don’t go to sleep.” 

“Grandpa, Santa’s not real,” Steve mumbles sullenly, getting under the covers. 

“Who told you that?” he asks, putting on a show of acting shocked. Flabbergasted. 

“Who do you think?” Steve shrugged, curling in on himself on his side and putting his glasses on the nightstand, “Dad told me. He said twelve’s too old to be believin' in Santa.” 

“If Santa’s not real, then how did he call me this morning?” he asks, “He told me about the Atari you put on your list.” 

“How do you know about that?” Steve shot up in bed, he only put the Atari on his Christmas letter to Santa. He didn’t tell anyone else about it. 

“I just told you! He called me!” he urges with a full belly laugh, heading to the door, “Now go to sleep, or he’ll put it under that tree for me, instead.” 

“Wait, Grandpa – sing the song.” 

“You sure? You’re not too old for your grandpa to sing you to sleep?” he asks, his heart swelling. 

“S’my favorite part of the night,” Steve smiles a drowsy smile, settling down in his covers while his grandfather starts to sing. 

Christmas Eve, 1981

“Christmas Eve will find me, where the love light gleams…” 

Steve sings softly to himself while he puts his pajamas on, the matching set his mother always made them wear for photos the next morning with the family. He can hear the sounds of the big corporate style Christmas party his father threw for the firm this year milling about downstairs. Even at fourteen, he wished his grandfather’s singing could drown out all the noise, but his Walkman would have to do. 

“He would have loved that you’re still singing it,” Steve’s mother says gently from his bedroom door, tears shining in her eyes, “It must be really hard to not have him around this year.” 

Steve forces a tight lipped smile, turning back to look at his mom and nods, “S’really hard.” 

“Oh, Steven, I miss him, too,” his mother cries, walking over to hold him tight in her arms, “He loved you so much.” 

It’s the most comfort he’s felt in months. 

8 AM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Makin’ a list, he’s checkin’ it twice…” Steve mumbles to himself, going over his charts for the morning leg of the day. He flicks his eyes up to Darlene at the admin desk. She’s in her late forties, gray lacing through her dark brown hair. She wears a new holiday theme brooch on her cardigan every day, resting on her heavy bosom. She carries her weight in her rosy cheeks and her big thighs. Her husband comes in every lunch break to give her a kiss and picks her up every night at five.  “Where’s your name this year Darlene,” he asks with a wink, “Were you naughty or nice?” 

Darlene, who’d never been immune to Harrington charm, smiles big and waves him off, “You better stop that before my husband comes through that door.” 

“You didn’t answer my question,” he smirks, leaning over the counter, “Were you naughty or nice? Bet I could guess.” 

He runs a hand through his hair, always half surviving double shifts on the thrill of flustering the married women in administration. Darlene’s face turns red as she turns to the computer in front of her, “I was very nice this year, Steve.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” he shrugs with a knowing glance, swiping another chart out of the file holder and giving it a once over, “I won’t be around at five to ask Gary.” 

“Oh, I saw you got the night off – who’s luckier than you?” she asks, “Gotta hot date or something?” 

Steve snickers, “I could never play around with your heart like that, Darlene.” 

She focuses on her work but shakes her head again while he continues, “Having some people over at my house. Parents are in Hawai’i again so –” he shrugs, “Just haven’t had some of the holiday off in a few years.” 

“Night shift tomorrow?” she asks. He nods with a deep breath while he looks over the white board on the wall past Darlene’s head. 

“Arthur’s coming in today?” Steve asks with a furrowed brow, looking at the patient list, “Isn’t he all good? He was in remission six months ago.” 

“Oh yeah, he’s got a biopsy this afternoon – can you imagine? A biopsy on Christmas Eve?” Darlene asks, looking at the list with him, “Just routine, though. I’m sure he’ll be excited to see you.” 

“Sure his wife will be, too,” Steve winks again and Darlene shoots him a look. 

“Will you go do your job please, before I call security!” she teases, “I know what list you’re on this year, Harrington. You’re on my list!” 

Steve laughs, adjusting his glasses and slinging this stethoscope around the back of his neck, charts tucked neatly under his arm. He’d been at the hospital a couple of years and even though his dad wished he was a doctor and not a nurse, he preferred this gig. It was all about making people feel good. He never had to give bad news, all he never had to do was just be there. All he ever had to do was be kind. 

He loved the nurses that took care of his grandpa when he was sick, they were there all the way to the end. Steve made friends with all of them, especially Georgia – who called him a little heartbreaker and was always trying to convince his mom to let him have a playdate with her daughter. Steve thought Georgia was a whole lot of woman – spitfire red hair, the kind of nurse you found in dirty magazines. He guessed her daughter was just as pretty. He wouldn’t know, he never got a chance to meet her. 

Arthur was a lot like Steve’s dad when they first met. Scrooge-like, a curmudgeon, not one nice word to say to anyone but his wife. 

November, 1995

“Why do they got a male nurse in here for? What’s the issue kid, bein’ a doctor too hard? You a fruitcake or somethin’?” Arthur’s voice was gruff and angry, huffing and puffing into his mask while his oxygen pump wheezed above his head. He’d just gotten out of surgery for a chemo port in his chest, so the last thing he wanted to do was be greeted with a nurse he wasn’t able to flirt with.

“Oh Artie, will you just relax? You’re gonna have an aneurysm,” his wife chides.

“Of course you don’t care that he’s a guy, Dottie,” Arthur grumbles under his breath. 

“Mr. Robbins, I get that you hate that I’m a guy,” Steve starts with a smile, “But if I don’t get your vitals you’re gonna be spending a lot more time with me than you want.” 

“Please, take your time,” Dottie says softly, “Don’t listen to him. He’s such a grump.” 

Arthur tosses her a look, it’s almost cartoonish. His frown pushes his jowls further down his face, deepening the creases by his nose. His furrowed brow in a permanent scowl from the deepened wrinkles in his forehead. 

Arthur’s life reads on his leathered skin and perfectly parted hair. Still styled like he was stuck in the 50s, covered in pomade – the silver shining in the fluorescent lights above them. A set of dog tags hung on a chain, slipping over the dipping collar of his hospital gown.

“World war two?” Steve asked, casting his eyes over to them while he wrapped the blood pressure cuff around Arthur’s arm. 

“And Korea,” Arthur wheezed, listening to the hiss of the cuff get tighter and then release, “Met my wife when she came over to sing for the boys.” 

“Thanks for your service,” Steve nods, while he writes Arthur’s stats down on his clipboard. He’s not sure if he’s thanking Arthur or his wife, he might as well thank them both. 

“Did you have any family in the war?” Dottie asked, crossing her legs. Dot was a winner, her hair a salon dark brown but the smile lines in her cheeks and the crinkles by her eyes showed her age. She wore a dark brown fur coat and carried a black leather handbag with a gold clasp that Steve was sure she’d kept in mint condition for the forty years she’s had it. 

“My grandpa fought in World War Two, too,” he smiled, “My mom was born in ‘45, though, so he didn’t volunteer for Korea.” 

“Well, thank him for his service from us, too,” Dottie says warmly. 

“He’s no longer with us,” Steve says, still smiling, “He passed away in ‘81 – but I’ll send a prayer up to him from you.” 

“Heh, if this thing keels me over, I’ll say ‘hi’ to your grandpa for ya instead,” Arthur lets out a grumbly, dark, chuckle.

“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry for your loss,” Dot coos, tossing a reproachful look at her husband. Her voice sounds like it was made for the movies. 

“Will you stop chattin’ him up and let him do his damn job?” Arthur growled. 

“Stop being such a big baby, Artie. You want me to get you some water?” she asked her husband sweetly, “I’m about to go grab a coffee for myself.” 

“Yeah, fine,” Arthur grumbled.

“Looks like that port went in okay,” Steve says to himself, inspecting the small contraption on Artie’s chest, “Everything feeling alright?” 

“I’m fine,” he huffed. 

Steve shook his head, scribbling down a few more things on the chart at the end of the bed, “I believe it, sir.”

“You from around here?” Steve asks, hoping to strike up a small conversation. They’d definitely be seeing a lot more of each other. 

“From Florida,” Arthur wheezes again, “My son and his wife, n’ my grandson all moved up here for some job she got. He’s some stay at home dad, can you believe it? ‘Least you sorta made somethin’ of yourself.”

Steve doesn’t respond, just nodding along. 

“Well anyway – hmmmff – s’cuse me,” Arthur coughs roughly, it sounds his Steve’s grandpa’s cough from when he was a kid, “Anyway, Dot couldn’t bear to be away from her boy so, here we are. Got here, two months later I got cancer – so, Indiana’s working out great for me.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Steve says earnestly, looking up from the board, “Your son comin’ in at all?” 

“Nah,” Artie makes a face, shaking his head, “That boy doesn’t talk to me. Prob’ly happy I’m sick.” 

“Oh, I doubt that–” Steve starts, but Artie let’s out a laugh. 

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Arthur’s chuckle is gravelly and deep in his throat, “I’m the meanest son of a bitch you’ll ever meet – and if anything’s true in this life kid, mean people never die.” 

Christmas Eve, 1995

“Well I’ll be back shortly, honey,” Dottie chirped while Arthur got his port hooked up to his tubing. She nearly knocked Steve over when he came into the room. 

“Oh, Steven, honey! I’m so clumsy! Merry Christmas,” she beams, rubbing his arm affectionately.

“You’re okay, Mrs. Robbins,” Steve says with a wink, “You’re leaving so soon?” 

“Just running out for a few last minute gifts! Gonna grab the Grinch here some cookies from my son’s house for him to snack on later,” she lists, “Can I get you anything, dear?” 

“I’m perfect, Mrs. Robbins, thank you though,” his dentist perfect smile makes her blush. 

“Steven, I keep telling you to please call me Dottie,” she huffs, pulling her coat on, “Mrs Robbins sounds so…ugh, so old.” 

“Ah, yes, don’t call her by her married name Steve. She’ll remember how married she is,” Arthur grumbled from his chair, a low chuckle shaking his shoulders. 

“Oh, stop,” Dottie teases, opening the door, “I’ll be back in a bit, I’ll see you both soon.” 

“You keep flirtin’ with my wife I’m gonna die a divorcee,” Arthur joked while she disappeared down the hall. 

“Well if it weren’t for you still kicking around here, she’d be more of a Mrs. Robinson to me than Mrs. Robbins,” Steve smirks into Arthur’s file, “The ladies love me here.” 

“God, don’t I know it – you’re everywhere, kid,” Artie rolls his eyes, “Whenever the girls are in here fussing over me they’re always checkin’ the board to see when your shift starts. I tell ‘em every time, ‘Will you shut up about that Harrington boy? I hear enough about him at home!” 

“Sees you when you’re sleeping, knows when you’re awake,” Steve shrugs, “Might as well be Santa Clause, huh?” 

“You doin’ anything for the holiday?” Arthur asks, he sits up a little, slowly. He’s gotten weaker with the chemo, it shows in his eyes. It shows in the growing softness in his voice. It shows in the thinness of his skin, olive green veins bleeding through a tan film. He’s thinner now, more fragile – it reminds Steve of the hospital in ‘81. His grandfather’s hands lying there, rigid and waxy. 

“You’re lookin’ at it, Artie,” Steve mumbles, adjusting the levels on the machines next to him. 

“Even tomorrow? What about your folks?” 

“My parents are in Hawai’i,” he lets a chuckle out in puffs of air from his nose, but Arthur knows it’s not a happy one, “I don’t really talk to my dad, much.” 

“You and my boy would get along -hhhgggack- get along great,” Arthur wheezes into another coughing fit. 

“Probably,” Steve laughs, “We both don’t like you.” 

Arthur’s coughs turn into barking laughs, loud enough that other attendants are craning their heads to look over at him. 

“Oh Harrington, you’re funny,” Arthur says, wiping his eyes, “You’re real funny.” 

The early evening rolls around and Arthur’s treatment finishes up just on time. Lung cancer was hard, but lung cancer with COPD and emphysema was a little worse. Steve was surprised that they were already starting to see some progress on the tumor after three weeks – maybe Dottie had a deal with someone upstairs. No one in heaven was looking out for Arthur Robbins. 

Steve undoes the connection to his port, starting the wrap up, singing softly to himself. 

“Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents by the tree…”

“That’s Dorothy’s favorite Christmas song,” Arthur hums, staring down at his feet. 

“Yeah? Was my grandpa’s too,” Steve says, grabbing Arthur’s coat from the chair and passing it to him, “He used to sing it to me every Christmas Eve, just sort of kept up with the tradition.” 

“We do the same for my grandson,” Arthur smiles, “It’s better as a duet. You should really hear Dottie sing – the pipes on her she just –” 

“Hi, so sorry I’m late!” 

As if summoned by the angels themselves, Dottie rushes into the room, gifts in hand. Arthur stands up, slowly putting on his coat and scarf, picking up his portable oxygen (which was hardly portable for a man his age). 

“Stevie, here,” she says with a smile, handing him a gift bag, “It’s not much, but I notice you always just come in with a coat on and I’d love for you to stay a little warmer, honey.” 

Steve melts, opening the tissue to see a red wool scarf and a pair of gloves nestled inside, “Dottie, you didn’t have to get me anything. That’s so sweet, thank you.” 

“Merry Christmas, Steve, we’ll see you soon,” Dottie presses a kiss to his cheek, Arthur rolls his eyes. 

“See you in the new year, Harrington,” Arthur says gruffly while he shuffles out of the room with Dot. 

“I’ll see you Monday,” Steve corrects, putting his file in the holder by the door. 

1PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Merry Christmas Artie, I got you a biopsy,” Steve cheers as he walks into Arthur’s room. 

“Oh, there’s my boy,” Arthur laughs, it’s hearty but he still wheezes, the tubes in his nose shake against his face. Steve comes in for a hug, completely missing the two people in the corner of the room. A man in his forties or fifties, and a boy around ten or eleven next to him. 

“Hi there,” Steve says, adjusting his glasses and putting his hand out, “I’m Steve, I was your dad’s nurse when he was here for treatment – and uh, I guess I’m his nurse today, too.” 

“Mark,” the older man says, he doesn’t smile, “We’re not staying long.” 

“This is my grandson, Mikey,” Arthur says, gesturing to the boy. Steve looks at him and his curly hair, his wire rim glasses that look like his own and his heart leaps.

“Hey Mikey,” Steve puts his hand out for a low five, “Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas,” Mikey says back, slapping his hand against Steve’s. He watches Mark start leading Mikey to the door and he cocks his head. 

“I’m just taking his vitals, you’re welcome to stay,” Steve says gently. 

“We’ll be back tomorrow,” Mark says with finality, “Say bye to grandpa, Mikey.” 

Mikey runs over, reaching over the bed on his tiptoes to pull Arthur into a hug, “I love you grandpa, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay,” Arthur smiles, “I love you, too.”

He watches them go and Steve turns back to him. 

“Where’s Dottie?” 

Arthur smiles at him with downturned eyes, “We lost Dot in August, Harrington.” 

“Oh, no. Artie, I’m so sorry,” Steve apologizes, leaning against the end of the hospital bed. 

“Still looked like a movie star down to the last day,” Arthur says with soft eyes, “Had me put her lipstick on the morning of, like she had someone to go meet in Heaven. I says, ‘Honey, I’m still here! Who’re you trying to look pretty for?’ She tells me she just wants to look pretty for me. Can you believe that? I’m just some schmuck she married.” 

“She probably lied to you,” Steve teased. 

Arthur swats at him with a grin, “She probably did.” 

“Things okay with your son?” Steve asks, unfurling the blood pressure cuff. 

“Nah,” Arthur shakes his head, “Mike though? That kid really is somethin’. He’s so friggin’ smart. Knows everything about computers and shit – even started teaching me how to use one. He’s ten! He’s gonna be – I don’t know, flyin’ rocket ships or somethin’ when he grows up.”

“You living with them?” 

“No, no, still at the house. Can’t part with Dot’s stuff – y’know? So much of her is still there. She decorated the whole place. S’like I’m still comin’ home to her when I do,” he smiles up at Steve and Steve follows suit. 

“You miss her?” he asks, the answer is obvious. 

“Like the deserts miss the rain,” Arthur declares gently, Steve notices the soft heave in his chest. 

“So what’s the deal, Artie, what’s the biopsy for?” 

“You’re the nurse, you should know!” Arthur laughs in surprise, “Whaddya mean what’s the biopsy for?” 

Steve rolls his eyes while Arthur wheezes back to speaking, “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. They found a spot – I got a scan back in Florida, we were there for a couple months. It’s not big, but better safe than – y’know – cancer. But honestly kid, it’s nothing. I’m not worried about it.” 

“Neither am I,” Steve nods. They go through the motions of his surgery prep, vitals, the works. They make jokes and share stories – it’d been a long six months. It was hard to leave each other – but his remission was a blessing. He’d become a different man in that year. They both had. 

“I’m heading out around three today, so I won’t be back until tomorrow,” Steve says. 

“Aw, c’mon, you’re supposed to be my Christmas buddy!” Arthur complains, “My son’s basically having me fuck off until he gets me tomorrow. Stick around!” 

“You want me to stick around or do you want Sara-Jean to be your night nurse?” Steve smirks. Sara-Jean was real pretty. Pretty enough that Steve had pulled her into a few empty rooms to play doctor every now and again. 

“Oh, you can get the fuck out right now if you want,” Arthur’s chortle is scratchy when it comes out. Steve missed that, and the soft puffs of his portable tank in the background. 

3PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Barb, did you hear about Darlene?” Steve asks while he gets to the admin desk. Darlene ‘tsks’ under her breath while she types away. 

“Did I hear what?” Barb asks, tossing a look at Darlene, “What’d she do?” 

“Well I talked to the big guy, y’know?” he says, tugging on his jacket, wrapping a red wool scarf around his neck, “Turns out, she’s on the naughty list.” 

“Ooh, Darlene! We better call Gary!” Barb teases with a laugh, opening a filing cabinet under the desk. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be, Steven?” Darlene whips her head around with a laugh, “Go home!” 

“I know someone on the naughty list isn’t telling me what to do,” he tutts with a sly smirk. 

He slaps a hand playfully on the counter, “Someone oughta teach her a lesson, huh Barb?” 

“You’re pushin’ your luck here, Harrington,” Barb says, emerging from below the desk with a stack of files, “You’re luckin Gary’s not here to knock you into ‘98.” 

Steve smiles, waving to the women, “If I don’t see either of you tomorrow afternoon, Merry Christmas.” 

“Merry Christmas,” they call back. 

Steve pops his head into Arthur’s room, still waiting to go in for surgery. 

“Hey, Merry Christmas, Artie,” he says. 

“Hey, Harrington,” Arthur says, beckoning him over, “C’mere for a second.” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked, walking to the edge of his bed. 

“I got a gift for Mikey that got delivered to my house this morning, my neighbor brought it in for me. But since I’m gonna be here overnight I was wondering if you could grab it and bring it in for me tomorrow? I just wanna tell ‘im Santa dropped it off so this whole thing doesn’t bum him out. I’m sure ya already got plans but I’d really appreciate it.” 

“No, no, of course,” Steve shakes his head, “I’ll go pick it up. What’s the gift?” 

Arthur smiles a knowing, grandfatherly smile, “He’s been begging Mark for a Nintendo 64 for since September – and they’ve been sold out everywhere. They can’t really afford stuff like that anyway, so Mark’s been telling him to ‘manage expectations’. Pfft.” 

“Think I’d ever tell my grandson to manage his expectations?” Arthur asks, Steve swears he hears his own grandfather saying it. “So I used the lessons Mikey gave me about the computer and I found it on this website called E-bay – hefty fuckin’ markup I’ll tell ya that. Now, I had to go to the library to find out how to really order it but, y’know, here it is. Who’d a thought you could just click a button and get something sent to your house, huh? Friggin’ magic.” 

Steve’s heart swells, “That’s really nice, Arthur.” 

“He’s a good kid, he deserves it. And y’know, Mark could use a break – he really could,” Arthur nods, considering for a moment, “He really loves his boy – so I think it’s sort of a gift for him, too.” 

“Well, I’ll give ya a call when I pick it up, okay?” Steve asks, walking back toward the door. Arthur nods, jotting the address down and passing it to him. 

“Thanks a lot Harrington,” he smiles, stopping him while Steve gets to the door, “And nice scarf.” 

Steve winks and pats the wall as he leaves. 

7PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

“Well I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” Robin confesses, “If she didn’t get you a gift, she probably doesn’t like you like that.” 

“What do you know about girls liking you back anyway, Buckley?” Eddie frowns, playfully tossing a red M&M at her on the couch. 

“Hey, hey, be nice,” Steve says, holding his hand out to Eddie who fills it with M&Ms. 

“You look so tired, Steve,” Nancy frowns, “How many shifts did you pull to get tonight off?” 

Steve shrugs, tossing his head back on the cushions of the couch, “I don’t know, too many.” 

The door opens and the kids file in. They aren’t kids anymore, Steve guesses, but they might as well be. 

“Party people! Merry Christmas!” Lucas calls, head of the line to file in followed by a deeply embarrassed Max. She has a big bag full of shiny wrapped boxes in her arms but before Steve can scold her about presents, she shoots him a look that could kill him dead. 

Henderson comes in after, immediately running to Eddie first, also carrying a bag of gifts. 

“Merry Christmas, folks,” he announces with a smile while passing out gift bags one by one. 

“Guys, I said–” Steve starts. 

“Shut up, nerd,” Erica says, walking in the door with Will and El flanking either side of her. Mike follows up at the end, closing the door behind him. 

“You say no gifts every year and we never listen to you, so,” Erica continues, crossing her arms and looking down at him from behind the couch, “Merry Christmas, though.” 

“Merry Christmas, Sinclair,” he says up at her. 

“Merry Christmas, Lady Apple Jack,” Eddie calls from the other end of the sectional. 

“There’s food all laid out in the kitchen,” Nancy calls to them. Steve yawns, sitting up and watching the group move as a unit to the kitchen, dropping their gifts off under the tree on the way. He looks around, a smile creeping onto his face, a Christmas that finally feels like family. Like home. Like he’s seven years old. 

His eyes zero in on the Nintendo 64 on the side table and his heart skips. 

“Shit, I’ll be right back, I gotta make a phone call.” 

Steve heads upstairs to his room, dialing to hospital without even looking at the numbers, counting the rings down to the second for Barb’s voice to pick up. 

“Hey Barb, it’s Steve. Can you transfer me to Artie Robbins’ room? He feelin’ okay?” he asks. 

“Uh, yeah, let me double ch– Hey, is Mr. Robbins out of surge–he is? Okay, okay – alright honey, let me transfer you over.” 

Steve holds his breath while the phone rings, letting it out when Arthur’s scratches through the phone, “Hello?” 

“Artie, hey, it’s Steve. Your gift is secured.” 

“Oh, good, good –hhgggack-, s’cuse me,” Arthur coughs wetly, Steve can hear him spit on the other end, “Sorry about that.” 

“Hey, don’t worry man. How was um, how was surgery, how’s it lookin’?” Steve asks, heart thumping in his chest. 

“Well um…” Arthur trails off, another wet, hacking cough echoes through the line, “Y’know I uh – I got some bad news for you, Harrington.” 

“Oh shit, Arthur…Arthur I’m so sorry,” Steve starts, “We can start you right back up on –” 

“I can’t believe you’d lie to me like that, Harrington,” he confesses, ignoring Steve’s apologies, his voice grinding with phlegm. 

“What? I didn’t – what do you –” sweat formed on his brow. Why did he tell him it was gonna be fine? He’s just a fucking nurse, how would he know? 

“Sara-Jean wasn’t my night nurse,” Arthur says, exasperated, “It’s some old broad I’ve never met before.” 

Arthur laughs and it gets caught in his throat like a wheeze, Steve lets out a long breath through his nose. 

“You’re such a fuckin’ asshole,” Steve chuckles, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “You almost gave me a heart attack, Jesus Christ.” 

“Merry, merry, Harrington,” he says, “See ya tomorrow.” 

“Do you want me to wrap it?” Steve asks, “The gift?” 

“Hey, if you’re offering – I don’t gotta pay you for that, right? They gonna add that to my bill?” 

“Actually, I’m gonna make sure they charge you double,” Steve smiles through the phone, hearing Arthur’s breathy laugh one more time before he says goodnight and hangs up. Steve heads back down stairs, the group all around the living room. 

“Here,” Robin calls, beckoning him over and patting a seat next to her, “I’m gonna put on Miracle at 34th Street.” 

“Why? It’s boring,” Mike frowns. 

“Cause it’s your sister’s favorite and she made all the food, dumbass,” Steve snap at him, walking over to the couch, not resisting the urge to give him a soft smack across his mop of hair. 

Eddie giggles, “Yeah, don’t be such a dumbass, Wheeler.” 

8PM - Christmas Eve, 1996

Beep beep. Beep beep. Bzz.

Beep beep. Beep beep. Bzz.

The group looks over at Steve who immediately reaches back into his pocket, beeper lighting up and buzzing. He squints down at it, the hospital’s number flashing below, “Ugh, shit. They’re really calling me in now?” 

“Just don’t go,” Eddie said, “They gave you the night off for a reason. Can’t they call someone else?” 

“That’s not really how it works Munson,” he mumbles, “Sorry guys, I gotta go um –” 

He looks around the room, eyes scanning everyone before they land on Nancy, “Nance can you just make sure everything’s locked up before you leave?” 

She nods, Henderson’s voice calling over the TV, “Why do you always ask Nancy?” 

“Do you really think I’d trust any of you other twerps to do it?” he asks with a laugh, pulling his coat on and wrapping the scarf around his neck, “Merry Christmas, guys.” 

The traffic was low, everyone home and inside, cozy with their families while he races back up to the hospital. He lets out a sigh, exhaustion rolling over him in waves like he hadn’t worked three days in a row – the twelves hours he had off would’ve been a great welcome. Before he knows it, he pulls into staff parking, still in his scrubs, hurrying into the lobby. 

“What’s up Barb,” he asks, “What’s goin’ on?” 

“Oh, honey…” she says, her frown tells him enough. 

“What’s happening, what’s wrong with him?” Steve asks, his body felt like he’d been dunked in ice water. In his peripheral he can see Arthur’s doctor come up behind him. 

“Steve I – I’m sorry,” he says. 

“What’s happening, what’s going on?” Steve eyes, nose prickling with heat, the back of his throat getting thick. 

“He’s hemorrhaging,” the doctor said, “It’s happening slowly, but we can’t stop it…he’s not gonna make it, Steve.” 

“Well you gotta, like, you can do something,” Steve says, a hurt smile pulling at his lips, “Like, there’s gotta be something that can stop it.” 

“There’s nothing we can do, Steve,” he confesses, putting a hand on his shoulder, “He wants to go.” 

“Well, um,” Steve swallows thickly, “Can you – has anyone called his son? Or? Where’s his family?” 

“They aren’t coming,” Barb says, shaking her head. Tears pooled in her eyes, “He asked if we’d call you.” 

“How much t-time does he have?” Steve gasps out, breath coming out of him in short spurts. Shoulders rising and falling unsteadily. 

“Not much,” the doctor says, “You should go see him.” 

Steve nods, numb, dizzy, the floor spins under him and suddenly he’s fourteen again – sitting in the waiting room with his dad while his mom wails outside the door. 

He gets to the room and opens the door slowly, Arthur laying there covered in tubes – with every blink it’s 1981 all over again. 

“Hey, Artie,” Steve says softly. He see’s Arthurs eyes flit toward him, a twitch of a hand standing in for a wave. Steve pulls a chair over and sits next to him, the healthy man he’d seen just hours before suddenly paled, older than he’d ever seen him. 

“Hey -hmmmfff- Harrington,” he pushes out. Pulling in a big, strained, wheezing breath between the words. It sounded like it hurt to breathe – but with only one weak lung working at this point, the other filling with blood, Steve assumed it must be. 

“Shh, shh,” Steve coos, “You don’t have to talk.” 

He sits there for a moment, listening to the beep of the EKG, the whoosh of air from the oxygen machine. Steve watches the drip of the IV drip – morphine. Arthur’s eyes are drowsy, but they still sparkle playfully at him. 

A lump builds in Steve’s throat while he watches him, he feels guilty taking deep breaths to keep from crying. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to hold back. 

“Aw, come on man, you were – ugh, fuck – thought you were too mean to die,” Steve asked between sniffles. He tries to blink back his tears but they finally spring out of him, leaking down his cheeks. 

“Well –hhhmmmfff- look what m-meeting you -hmmmfff- got me, k-kid,” Arthur laughs through labored, shallow, breaths, “One good -hhhmmfff- de-deed and I’m k-kicking the buck-bucket –hmmmff-. 

Steve takes his hand, holding it tight, a shuddering breath hitting his lungs before he breaks, “I’m s-sorry your s-son’s not coming.”

“S’okay I don’t want -hhhmmfff– Mikey to -hhmmfff- see me like th-this,” he gasps out, eyes lulling, breaths getting farther and few in between. 

“You think -hmmfff- Dot’s st-still gonna think I -hhhmmmff- look sh-sharp?” 

“Oh, for sure,” Steve cries into a laugh, “She’d probably still think I look sharper.” 

Arthur lets out a weak wheeze of a laugh, using whatever left over strength he has to push a half smile onto his face. 

“I’ll say -hhmmff– hi to your gr-grandpa –hhmmff- for you,” he whispers. Steve nods, squeezing his hand, wiping his face with the other. 

“He’ll thi-think you’re a real p-piece of work,” Steve jokes, his thumb grazing comfortingly over Arthur’s hand. 

They sit there in silence, outside of Arthur’s labored breathing and the monitors beeping, Steve’s sniffling and shuddering cries. 

“-hhhmmmff– H-harrington?”

“Yeah?” 

“Sing the song.” 

Steve doesn’t have to ask which he means, his heart breaks as he looks at the clock – 9 PM – right when his grandpa would bring him off to bed. 

“Sure, Artie,” Steve promises, “Sure.” 

“Christmas Eve will find me…”

“As the love light gleams…”

“I’ll be home fo– Oh, no…no, Artie. Arthur c’mon, c’mon man.”

The monitor holds a steady note, and against it, a rattle Steve knows all too well. 

Christmas Day, 1996 

Steve got home late but Nancy, Robin, and Eddie were still there when he got in. “How’d you know?” Steve asked, eyes red behind his specs. 

“Your girlfriend Barb called,” Robin joked, pulling him into a hug. The rest followed suit, pressing against him so that maybe the pressure would relieve him of his grief. They all stayed the night, they saved cookies for him, a plate of snacks, dinner. They stayed up until he was fast asleep – all sneaking out quietly the next morning to spend time with their families. 

Steve woke up around nine in the morning, blearily peering around the living room. He must’ve fallen asleep on the couch, glasses laid neatly on the side table and a note from Nancy. His eyes lingered on the present for Mikey, he heaved a deep and heavy sigh. 

Steve got up and took a quick shower, hoping the water would take his aching along with it down the drain. It didn’t, but it woke him up a little. He didn’t bother getting dressed, just getting back into his scrubs from the night before, slapping on some deodorant and cologne before trudging back downstairs. 

He took his time to wrap the gift, folding over the edges of the paper and sealing it seamlessly. The North Pole would’ve hired him in a heartbeat if they could get a look at this wrap job. 

He pulled on his coat, his red wool scarf, and tugged the present under his arm while he walked to the car. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his coat pocket, his own sloppy writing looking back at him with Mark’s address scrawled on it. It was a twenty minute drive – it felt like an eternity. 

He rang the bell and knocked on the door, and even though he knew they were home he was still surprised to see Mark open it, his wife next to him. 

“Hey, Mr. Robbins,” Steve says softly, “Sorry to come by but um – I know this must be a really hard day for you both, but –” 

“It’s okay. Um, Steve – right?” Mark guesses, Steve nods. Mark looked worse for wear, “This was dad’s nurse at the hospital.” 

“Hi,” his wife murmurs, “Merry Christmas.” 

“Merr–” 

“Dad, who is it?” Mikey calls, pushing between his parents, “Oh hey, you’re that guy from yesterday.” 

Steve guessed it must be hard to really dampen the magic of Christmas for a ten year old, even if his grandpa just died. 

“Hey buddy, you’re actually the guy I wanted to see,” Steve said with a smile, kneeling down to get closer to his level. 

“I found this on the desk in the lobby at the hospital,” he says, looking down at the box, holding it out in front of him, “It’s addressed to you, looks like it’s from Santa.”  Mikey frowns, and at a closer look, it’s clear Mikey had just as rough of a night as his dad had. His lower lip wobbles slightly but he quickly straightens it out. 

“Santa isn’t real,” Mikey says defiantly, crossing his arms. 

“Who told you that?” Steve asks, his brows furrowed. 

“No one told me,” Mikey mumbles softly, “I told Santa that all I wanted for Christmas was for my grandpa to get better. And he didn’t…so…” 

“Well if Santa’s not real, then how did he call me this morning?” Steve asks with a smile.

“What?” Mikey asks, eyes shining with excitement. 

“He told me he left this at the hospital because he thought you were still there,” Steve explains, “So he asked if I could bring it to you. It was something you really wanted, he told me.” 

“Oh man, is this –” he takes the box from Steve, it’s a little too heavy for him, “Is this what I think it is?!” 

“I don’t know, dude, you gotta open it!” Steve laughs. Mikey sits right on the ledge of the front door, Mark and his wife behind him. The paper rips away to reveal the Nintendo 64 Mikey had begged for since it came out in September. 

“WOW! Dad look! Santa saw it on my list! He didn’t forget! I can’t believe it!” 

Steve stands back up to see Mark, his red eyes pooling with tears. 

“Honey, why don’t you come with me and I’ll see how we can set it up,” Mark’s wife says to Mikey, taking the box from him. Mikey runs inside and his mom gives Steve a small wave, wishing him a Merry Christmas.

“S’that from my dad?” Mark asked, wiping his eyes. 

Steve takes his glasses off, wiping his own, “Yeah, he um, ordered it online – if you can believe it.”  They both let out a small, pained, airy chuckle. Two men who are suddenly boys. Red noses and cheeks. 

“He asked if I’d bring it to him to give to Mikey but um, y’know.” 

Mark nods, face contorting while he tries to hold back a sob, “Merry Christmas, man.”  Steve puts his hand out to shake it, but Mark pulls him into a tight hug where they both fall apart, “I’m so sorry, Mark. I’m just so sorry.” 

They stay embraced for a few minutes before breaking apart, both taking deep breaths while they settle. Two boys who know what it’s like to not understand their dads. Two boys who know better now. 

“You’re a very kind man, Steve,” Mark says, “Thank you so much, for – for this.” 

“Thank you,” Steve says gently, “I hope you and your family are able to have a good holiday.” 

They say their goodbyes and Steve takes his keys from his pocket, swinging them into his hand. He gets in the driver’s seat of the BMW, the leather quickly cooled over. He watches Mark shut the door behind him and takes a cleansing breath through his nose and out through his mouth, putting the key into the ignition. 

The heat blasts and he pulls out onto the road, flicking the radio on. 

He chuckles sadly to himself, eyes closing briefly behind his glasses at the coincidence, while the radio crackles to life. 

“Merry Christmas, guys,” he says, staring up at the sky through the windshield. 

Bing Crosby’s voice fills the car, and Steve’s red, wool scarf feels warmer than it ever has around his neck.

“Christmas Eve will find me. As the love light gleams. I’ll be home for Christmas… 

If only in my dreams.” 

[gyumibear]

✂️ three's a crowd — 00: my clematis

synopsis — being an ex-obsessive fan is hard, but you've been doing well so far. that is until your rival is revealed to be dating choi soobin, the idol you've been dreaming of for years! so, now your road to recovery is detoured because you're not going to let that slide. you're going to break them apart at all costs. doesn't she know three's a crowd?

taglist — open! send an ask or comment on the main masterlist to be added! @imsiriuslyreal

warnings — violation of hippa laws 😭, mentions of mental illness (codependency, obsession, parasocial relationships), allusions to suicidal thoughts and mentions of violence.

(wc — 1.5k)

It is our intention to include a transcript of the therapeutic sessions run by Dr. [REDACTED] with his client [REDACTED]. These transcripts are protected by doctor-client confidentiality laws (HIPPA) and should only be accessed by the verified person(s). Please call [xxx-xxx-xxxx] if you are in fear of those laws being violated. 

August 24, 2019 / #Session 1

Note: C refers to client [REDACTED] while T refers to Dr. [REDACTED].

T: Hello, [REDACTED], it’s nice to see you today. 

C: I’m only here because [REDACTED] wants me to be.

T: And might I ask who that is? Is he your father?

C: He’s my cousin, in a way. He’s more like a brother though.

T: Is he your legal guardian?

C: Yes, but only for a few more days. I’m about to turn 18 soon.

T: I’ll note that down. Well, thanks for coming, and I’m happy to help you. First, I want to go over a few things with you. I just want you to know that everything we talk about here is confidential. 

C: Obviously. You’d get sued if you didn’t keep things between us.

T: *Dry laugh* You’re correct. Let’s start talking, what happened today that brought you here?

C: Hm.

T: Feel free to start whenever you’re comfortable, [REDACTED].

C: I pushed a girl down a flight of stairs.

T: Did she do something to anger you? Why did you push her?

C: She said that [REDACTED] is the weakest member of [REDACTED].

T: Can you enlighten me as to who that is? Is he a celebrity?

C: Yes, my favorite! He’s the leader of [REDACTED] which is a K-Pop group.

T: Ah, right. Why did her comment about him upset you so much?

C: Because he’s the love of my life? She was spewing absolute bullshit and she doesn’t even know him. Not like I do. I know how hard [REDACTED] works, how much he does for the group and the other members. She deserved to get put in her place.

T: Hold on, [REDACTED]. You said he’s the love of your life? Can you explain that?

C: He is. We’re gonna get married one day. I know it.

T: Let’s dig deeper into this, okay? Tell me more about [REDACTED].

September 28, 2019 / Session 3

C: So, I doxxed her, and I got her expelled.

T: All because she said she preferred [REDACTED] to [REDACTED]?

C: Yeah! I like [REDACTED] and all, but the best member will forever be my [REDACTED]. He’s not the leader for no reason, Dr. [REDACTED].

T: I understand how you feel, but [REDACTED], she is allowed to have her own opinion. You can understand that, correct?

C: She can. That doesn’t mean she won’t face the consequences for them.

T: Hm.

January 4, 2020 / Session #10

T: Welcome back, [REDACTED]. How was your Christmas?

C: It was pretty good, [REDACTED] bought me two [REDACTED] albums. I pulled [REDACTED] of course. It’s because he loves me. He made sure I got his PCs.

T: Hm. Have you been taking your medication regularly?

C: …

T: [REDACTED]?

C: No. I just… forgot. [REDACTED] got really mad at me over the break and I felt like he was gonna leave me and I- I just couldn’t focus on anything else.

T: Why did he get upset with you?

C: I spent the rent money on some [REDACTED] merch cause his birthday was coming up. December 5.  He had to call [REDACTED] and ask him to pay this month. They both were really pissed at me, [REDACTED] was the angriest though. I felt bad, like genuinely bad about it.

T: When you say bad, do you really mean sad?

C: Yeah… I just, I don’t ever want him to be mad at me. He’s all I have… But, it’s like… When it comes to [REDACTED] I just can’t control myself. It’s like I’d [REDACTED] if he asked me to.

T: Do you want to [REDACTED]?

C: Sometimes.

March 4, 2020 / Session #14

C: Lately, I’ve just been feeling… Empty? Today’s supposed to be a happy one, cause it’s their one-year anniversary, but I just… Don’t feel anything?

T: Why do you think that is? Did something happen?

C: My classmate recently started biasing him and she actually met him. She ran into him at the convenience store or something and he… talked to her.

T: Continue.

C: At first I thought she was lying, just to piss me off, but… She pulled out her phone and she showed a whole group of us. He took a picture with her and she said he even called her pretty…

T: How did that make you feel when you heard that?

C: Pretty upset. I didn’t do anything to her though, I just walked away.

T: That’s good, [REDACTED]. I’m glad nobody got hurt.

C: Doesn’t mean I didn’t want to hurt her.

T: I understand, but we’re working on that, now aren’t we?

C: Yes. Yes, we are.

August 5, 2020 / Session #25

T: Woah, [REDACTED] you seem very upset today.

C: I’m not in the mood Doc.

T: Would you mind telling me why?

C: [REDACTED] has dating rumors. With this random bitch [REDACTED]. Literally, just because they’re working together as emcees does not mean they’re dating! He wouldn’t do that. He knows that would crush me.

T: [REDACTED], you remember [REDACTED] doesn’t know you, right?

C: That’s not true! He responded to my message on [REDACTED]. Twice. He knows me.

T: Oh dear. [REDACTED], I’m sorry. That was out of line on my part.

C: It’s fine, just don’t say that again. I’m already in a bad mood.

April 16, 2022 / Session #x 

Note: C stopped seeing T for a few years due to her time in [REDACTED] after an incident in which she [REDACTED] after an altercation with her classmate. A few of her files were lost, these were the earliest we could find.

C: I’m going to [REDACTED] for University. It took a lot of hard work, but I’m gonna study fashion! [REDACTED] is paying my tuition, but I’m gonna work so I can pay him back.

T: That’s a good idea, [REDACTED]. I’m proud of you.

C: It is a little scary though…

T: What’s scary?

C: Being away from [REDACTED] and [REDACTED]. Cause I have to move into a dorm, I’m not going to see them every day like usual… I’m a bit nervous. I think it’s my separation anxiety.

T: That could be it. Let’s talk more about this. 

May 31, 2022 / Session #x

T: This is the last time I’m going to be seeing you regularly, [REDACTED]! 

C: Yeah, it feels like it was just yesterday when I met you for the first time.

T: How are you feeling? Been keeping up with your meds?

C: Yep! I’ve been feeling pretty okay! When I start feeling bad I just remember the exercises and the practices you taught me and I work around them. I’m healed, basically.

T: You were never broken, [REDACTED]. You just needed some guidance. You are doing exceptionally well, but don’t start slacking off. We don’t want you to relapse.

C: Yeah, I got you Doc. I’m gonna be on my best behavior!

T: I believe as much. So, what music do you have to share with me this week?

C: I’ve been listening to [REDACTED]! She’s so cool, she makes me wanna learn how to play an instrument.

T: That’d be a good hobby, don’t you think?

C: Yep. Also, Doc..?

T: Yes, [REDACTED]? You look concerned?

C: I, um… I saw some photos of [REDACTED] online… I blocked all the tags that I could, but I guess they just slipped through.

T: That’s alright. these things happen. How did you feel about that?

C: I felt like screaming. I don’t know how to describe it, but it wasn’t a good feeling. So I turned my phone off and I went to go talk to [REDACTED] about it.

T: Is that fully true?

C: …

T: [REDACTED], please tell me the truth.

C: Hm… No.

T: What did you really do?

C: I binge-watched all the fancams I could find of him…

T: Is that all?

C: I also argued with some people online… But then [REDACTED] came and he distracted me.

T: *Sighs* Let’s have another session tomorrow, I want to investigate something.

C: Okay…

August 1, 2023 / Session #x

T: You’re going back to school soon. How do you feel?

C: Fine. It’s just school, you know?

T: Mhm. How’ve you been feeling?

C: Fine. I spent the weekend at [REDACTED]’s so I’m pretty out of it, haha.

T: I see. Did you keep up with your medicine?

C: Do you even need to ask? Of course. I haven’t missed a day in months.

T: I’m very proud of you. Why did you schedule this meeting though, might I ask?

C: I dunno… I just felt like I should.

T: That’s okay! I’m here for you for that very reason. So, tell me what’s on your mind?

C: There’s this girl who’s supposed to be my roommate… I don’t like her.

T: What’s her name?

C: [REDACTED]. She’s a music major.

T: What don’t you like about her?

C: She just… Seems fake? There’s something off and it makes me feel weird.

T: Hm… When was the first time you two interacted?

C: Well… Let’s see…

Note: End of recovered transcripts.

a/n — this was just a simple prologue/teaser to show what yn's mental state is like! i've never done therapy transcripts so i'm sorry if they're an inaccurate portrayal? let me know if there's something that needs to be tagged or changed.

playlist / masterlist / next

© GYUMIBEAR. do not repost, modify or translate my work onto other social media sites.

[bfpnola]

hello! I have mental illness myself, and have recently begun diving into your resources. I agree that your mental condition does not determine who you are, but growing up, I had a parent with NPD who was extremely abusive. I know it's not meant in a way to pretend abuse isn't real, but when I see things like "narcissistic abuse isn't real", it makes me really uncomfortable- because I have suffered it myself. I still am learning about things, so I may be misinformed, but doesn't NPD mean your personality- who you are- is supremely arrogant and self-centered, with no regard for others? The only explanation I have come up with is that creating personality disorders to label bad people is what's wrong, but I really would appreciate your response.

hey! thank you so much for sending in a question. and thank you to the 5 folks who helped out by adding their input during the making of this post. let’s break this down together!

when someone says "narcissistic abuse isn't real," it's the part in reference to NPD that matters. when we rush to automatically equate a diagnosis with abusive behavior, in many ways, we are leaning into sanism and eugenics, often the very same biologically-dependent attitudes that criminalize people of color. the abuse you faced was real and i don't think anyone should be allowed to erase those experiences for you! continuing, personality can and does influence behavior. all of these things can be true while also accepting that having NPD does not automatically make someone abusive or somehow more prone to abusive behaviors, even if that was only implied.

why though? for one, because saying the opposite absolve us of our power as well! as humans, we are all capable of harm, of hurting people, even in egregious ways. this was something i personally struggled with literally up until a couple months ago when i hurt someone i really loved. i wanted to be a good person so badly, and those around me knew how much good i was capable of spreading, so certain actions continued to slide. the reality is that i'm not just good or just bad, but human! i'm capable of hurting other people, and that's so scary to me, but it's the truth. and that's the same for everyone else. as some of our friends in BFP even said just now (not sharing their names for privacy purposes), no one (i hope) walks around saying "depressive abuse" or "PTSD abuse" even though people with these disorders are equally capable of perpetuating harm, like anyone else. cluster B disorders are constantly demonized when in reality, you and i could have both been abused by a "regular" person just the same. erasing our capability to harm not only makes it harder to hold one another accountable in the future (why should i get help or change my behavior when it's due to my disorder?), but equally pushes forth a narrative that the DSM (the book used to diagnose people) is law. what do i mean by that though?

in mad studies, we acknowledge that the DSM, rather than having distinct diagnoses with quantifiable, empirical symptoms like literally any other field of science, groups together pre-existing symptoms that tend to appear together and labels them. the diagnoses we receive are better to be thought as shorthand for clusters of commonly comorbid behaviors. and what of these symptoms? who gets to decide what irregular behavior looks like? who are we comparing Mad individuals to? who represents the norm, the "regular" i mentioned earlier? psychiatry and psychology are extremely biased, my favorite examples of which are drapetomania (a "mental illness" meant to explain why enslaved Africans kept running away from plantations), The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disease by Jonathan Metzl, hysteria, and prolonged grief disorder. none of this is to say that diagnoses can't be helpful or that your experiences aren't real, but to be wary of the subjectivity, biases, hierarchies, and abuse intrinsic to the field.

because of everything i just said, i feel uncomfortable setting clear delineations for what NPD is and isn't, so i'll leave that part up to a volunteer of ours actually with this diagnosis:

firstly, at our cores we are very insecure about ourselves. we put on a façade of grandiosity to feel better about ourselves and to avoid showing people our insecurities. most of us were hurt by people close to us when we were children, most commonly caretakers, and we do our best to avoid showing this insecurity and hurt. secondly, our self esteem tends to be reliant on the opinions of others. we depend on approval from other people to feel good about ourselves, because we're so insecure. NPD is also characterized by delusions of grandiosity, which is the most stereotypical feature of the disorder. but there's more than just grandiosity. we also experience what's called a "narc crash" (or just a "crash"), which typically happens after a grandiose high. these crashes involve feelings of intense shame, self hatred, etc. the other thing i would include in a definition of NPD is the fantasies, because we hate ourselves so much we are often preoccupied with fantasies of power, success, and fame to help us feel better about ourselves. in short, NPD is defined by extreme insecurity masked by delusions of grandeur, which are followed by crashes. it is also defined by dependence on others for validation since we cannot validate ourselves. a lot of people assume that we just have inflated egos and love ourselves so much, but it's all a façade to hide our extreme insecurity and lack of self worth.

TLDR: 1) the phrase "narcissistic abuse isn’t real" does not erase any abuse you faced by someone who may have had NPD but rather recognizes that the implication of all people with NPD or Cluster B disorders being abusive is not only harmful to everyone but bleeds into eugenics. 2) it's important to be wary of how we deify the DSM and the diagnoses it provides, as it perpetuates the active dehumanization of people who don't meet a certain standard. a standard set by whom? 3) NPD is characterized by extreme insecurity and dependence on others for validation, followed by crashes due to delusions of grandeur clashing with reality.

if you have any more questions, please keep sending them in to @bfpnola! for more on mad studies, here’s our study guide for beginners.

-- reaux (she/they)

[missr3n3]

1, 2, 4, 5, 7, 9, 10, 16, 17, 18, 20, 27, 30, 31, 34, 38, 40 for Isaac and Joshua.

ok this one's gonna have to go under a read more goddamn @_@

one essay coming up!

1 - joshua can go a pretty long time, maybe a couple hours before he starts getting antsy. isaac, on the other hand, can maybe do ten minutes

2 - isaac laughs super easily, even at his own jokes! joshua had a much harder time before 2009, but especially after he started getting (government mandated) help, he's at least more likely to crack a smile hear n there

4 - it's pretty challenging for both of them, though especially for joshua. isaac is at least willing to give someone a chance if they don't immediately do something to make him put his guard up.

5 - very easy for joshua, since he tends to assume people have ill intent until proven otherwise. since isaac prefers to see the best in others, he might let a couple things slide before he really puts his foot down (as is shown with elijah)

7 - certain smells, landmarks, or even weather will remind joshua of his upbringing in iowa. though his relative didn't treat him well, he does have fond feelings about the rural landscape. with isaac, it'll be the media he used to watch or the songs he'd listen to. it tends to be a mixed feeling, since he's prone to cringing at his past self.

9 - like sailors lmao. isaac doesn't remember the first time he did it, but joshua remembers asking uncle jonas what "fuck" meant after he heard him say it. it ended with a bar of soap in his mouth and a loud, stern talking to.

10 - both of them have had to lie to romantic partners about the intensity of their feelings. joshua at least occasionally felt a level of affection towards madeline that he could use as proof of his interest in her, while isaac had much worse problems with "leading people on" so to speak. unfortunately aromanticism wasn't as known in the 2000s as it is now (and it still isn't especially well-known now), so isaac often felt like he had to feign romantic interest when what he really wanted was something closer to friends w/ benefits.

16 - isaac never had a strong stomach when it came to gore even in movies, and it's much worse after the events of 2009. joshua's stomach tends to drop when he sees A Particular Shade of Red.

17 - neither of them get embarrassed all that often. isaac is easy-going enough that he can play off awkward situations with a joke, while joshua just gets annoyed

18 - for isaac, it's any reminders of his past mistakes. for joshua, it's having to give or accept praise

20 - isaac would explain platonic love as someone you would drop everything to help, familial love as a string that ties you to someone whether you like them or not, and then he'd get stumped trying to describe romantic love bc he's never actually felt it. joshua would have a similar explanation for platonic love, would describe romantic love as similar, but with an extra warm feeling in one's chest, and then would get stumped trying to describe familial love because it's not something he was ever given.

27 - both of them will become anxious if something reminds them of the events of 2009. the anniversary of nox getting bombed is often a difficult day because of this.

30 - for isaac, it's one of his exes named jackie (haven't decided on a last name yet lol) who is one of the people he calls while joshua is missing, because his poor communication in relationships ended really badly for the two of them. joshua on some level regrets everyone he's ever met, because he still struggles with feeling like he deserves any relationships given the circumstances of his creation.

31 - for isaac, it's joshua, leah, jessie, and madeline. for joshua, it's isaac and madeline (he still feels bad abt indirectly causing andrew's death, so he can't quite have fully positive feelings towards jessie)

32 - it's gotten easier for both of them as the years go by, but joshua is more likely to need some assurance.

38 - isaac often revisits concerts and parties he went to with joshua. joshua involuntarily revisits his time in the Nightmare Sand Pit because of his PTSD about it.

40 - though isaac can do a better job of hiding it, he's got quite a few insecurities, particularly concerning his scars and his relationship issues. joshua has a sort of "what you see is what you get" attitude about himself.

[firewolf-pyro]

10. BETRAYAL

Scene: we open in the room Henry has been placed in, the medical devices that were connected to him are away and Henry is resting under the pale blue blankets with a Dalek mutant resting on his lap. On a stool besides the bed sits Rose who is turned towards a small tv that has been brought in and set on a cart of sorts. Both of them seem to be watching the mutant on Henry’s lap while the creature's eye is turned to watch the screen.

Rose: “It has barely moved.”

Actions: she observes as she looks to the screen that the mutant was staring into. The screen had some kind of stop motion kids show playing. It seemed to be interactive of sorts at the character looked out of the screen at them.

Henry: “you should feel his mind right now, completely blank. Usually it’s nothing but stress and rage and hate but- just… zone out… nothing but static.”

Actions: he insists as he rests a hand on the head mass of the creature. He glances down then back up at the screen.

Rose: “Is he always in your head? Can you always feel what this thing is feeling?”

Actions: she leans over to look at Henry who had started to fall into the same trance like state the more he looked at the tv.

Henry: “agh? Wh? Oh, kind of? I can’t always hear what he is thinking- he can block my thoughts … but I can’t block his- if he wants me to know something or he wants to know something in me- he can just… dig for it… the feeling is- not painful but- it’s like someone yanks the steering wheel away from you.”

Actions: he explains softly as he pets the form of the Dalek mutant resting on his lap.

Rose: “oh…”

Actions: she stares down worriedly at the mutant resting there.

Scene: the camera fades to looking out a window into the snowy wilderness. We get a sense that time is going by very fast, watching the clouds in the sky darken and collect. Then the storm is released, the snow storm so thick it blurs the world outside. Camera fades out opening back into an open laboratory with a damaged blue casing resting beside the island counter. Olesia is standing by the counter laying down battery packs as she watches Blueton move from shelf to shelf.

Olesia: “so… Why does your empire hate you so much?”

Actions: she asks as she begins to hook the power cells up into the now opened casing.

Blueton: “You already know the reason, they find me insane.”

Actions: he insists as he clambers back down from one of the counters holding a small container of some sort of silver powder.

Olesia: “I know the just but, you haven’t gone into detail on what exactly provoked you into doing what you did…”

Actions: she murmured as she sat back to observe her work. The energy source at the base of the casing barely let off a glow.

Blueton: “why, why I went against them?”

Actions: they clambered into the casing and opened the jar of silver powder. He began pouring it into the basin of the energy source.

Olesia: “Please…”

Actions: she squats down to observe the other as they worked.

Blueton: “Everything was fine- fek what I recall… from- very early on. Just- fine… monotonous- repetitive. Science projects, study’s on war to better eradicate the Thal- … hmm.”

Actions: he closes the energy source. The basin begins to admit a very strong blue glow.

Blueton: “The Prime and… The old emperor. Both are still so foggy in my recollection- I held no ill will towards them, towards my others… Until the debate began- on what status we held over the other Kaleds around us- what we felt was correct to do with the species that made us… the man that made us.”

Actions: he moved up and began removing burnt out slides from the neck section of the casing. He let them fall to the floor below them.

Olesia: “So it was both a moral debate and the start of a political debate?”

Actions: she asks as she pulls the burnt out sections over to herself and sets them on the counter beside her.

Blueton: “Yes? No? I… do not recall. I will stand by my beliefs however, Daleks are their own rulers. We will not bend to any who wish us to - not even the one who created us. They are not a god, we are not his pawns.”

Actions: her turns to face Olesia, his tendrils keeping him centered in the casing.

Blueton: “Some did not agree… That was my first taste of a political break. It was… also my first taste of Dalek on Dalek warfare.”

Actions: he gestures towards the power banks on the counter.

Blueton: “flick the first switch, the central power needs to charge before the rest can absorb the flow into the nanotechnology.”

Actions: he stated idly.

Olesia: “Wait- so you went through a revolution? Daleks had a revolution? Huh… somehow that does not make sense to me.”

Actions: she turns and flicks one of the switches on the power bank. A soft hum fills the room as the glow in the power source begins to glow brighter.

Blueton: “correct… It was not… It still is not. Sure we can keep a close watch on genetics and mark who is more superior than who based on them but…. We were also focused on motivations and alliances…. It was- unbelievably confusing. It started some questions that no one has answered to this point. Past that those questions only burned brighter the further off world we got.”

Actions: he turns towards the central slots in the neck section then began poking at the slots.

Actions: “power levels are remaining stable.”

Olesia: “Sorry… I don’t get it.”

Blueton: “Neither do I. Something happened during one of those planetary battles that really messed with me- I…do not know what but - none of the other Daleks seemed to take notice. The repetitivity of the hive mind was agony. The drive to explore further out of our solar system was the only thing keeping me sane… I wanted to know more, more about the stars and the life surrounding them…”

Actions: he stared down at the ground for a moment before continuing.

Blueton: “more about how they battled, how their war worked- how their civilizations worked around their wars…”

Olesia: “So that was what started it then? Something you experienced in one of the wars on your homeworld?”

Actions: she stood up on her knees to look over the power levels on the power cells.

Blueton: “yes?”

Olesia: “Blueton… How old are you?”

Actions: she sits back down and leans in on her knees to stare into the eye of the Dalek mutant.

Blueton: “I… Anyways- the Mechanoids really proved to push whatever was … My creativity along with the creative opinions of the others were tested to their limits and expanded upon. I earned my title as strategist then and there.”

Actions: he glared down at Olesia for a long minute.

Blueton: “Why am I telling you this?”

Actions: he begins to pull back, their tendrils cooling as they clamber further up towards the dome of their casing.

Olesia: “Because you like me, you find comfort in me. But if you are as old as I think you are… Why aren’t you a pile of black mush?.”

Actions: she insisted as she reached her hand up towards Blueton. She looks very confident.

Blueton: “Disgusting. I can personally thank the Mevolans for that.”

Actions: he stares at the offered hand. Hesitantly he reaches a single tendril but barely lets it touch the tip of her fingers.

Blueton: “I can not do this- you are not a Dalek - this is wrong-“

Actions: he pulls back completely, getting a soft frown from Olesia.

Olesia: “one step forward two steps back.”

Actions: she huffs and stands up. She dusts herself off and peers over the energy levels again.

Olesia: “It’s okay Blueton, I Won't push it any further than that.”

Actions: she sighs and watches just over her shoulder as Blueton scrambles off of their casing back towards some of the cupboards. They pause briefly to look over the symbols on a fridge before continuing on.

Scene: the camera turns away from the two before opening into the large open entryway of the facility’s above ground area. We can see that the snow from the storm has piled up against the tall windows. The area is mostly empty, only a few people sitting with their tablets of laptops on sofas in the wide open space. The camera continues its rotation pausing on Olesia, Henry and a freshly healed blue and silver casing strolling along behind them. Henry is back in blue jeans and a colorful t-shirt, a bright orange sweater with the facility’s logo on its sleeves pulled on over it.

Henry: “So- this is definitely not the planet we were meant to land on - right?”

Actions: he looks up at the ceiling watching the rafters creak and groan as the wind howels outside.

Olesia: “I doubt it? Daleks really do not do well in the cold.”

Actions: she cackled before finding an open couch and claiming a spot for herself and Henry.

Henry: “to be honest, neither do humans- I’m lucky to still have all of my fingers and toes after being stranded out in the snow and ice like that. I was out there for hours.”

Actions: he grumbled and sits down next to her. He looks up to the casing in front of him and cackles.

Henry: “hah! No room for the drone here- move along move along!”

Actions: he smirks to the eyestalk that turns to stare down at the both of them. They are silent before turning and continuing towards the windows.

Olesia: “He’s still touchy about our conversation earlier… I think he came to some odd conclusions about himself.”

Actions: she sighs and rubs her face as she watches the Dalek pause at the windows. She lets out a grumble as she watches the Doctor and Rose stroll towards the lone Dalek.

Olesia: “Aaaannndd now we’re going to have to go save him again from the clutches of the ruthless oncoming storm.”

Actions: she makes to stand but Henry grabs her shoulder.

Henry: “Stop… He talked to you? Like, actually talked to you?”

Actions: he holds onto her arm until she relaxes back into her seat.

Olesia: “Yes, he did.”

Henry: “Like, not just barking orders or accidental mental

Flashes of memories or thoughts? Just, straight up talked to you?!”

Actions: he looks in awe glancing from Okesia to the Dalek then back again. He sits up a bit as he listens to her.

Olesia: “yes, he started to explain why he was doing what he was doing- or… well, less of why and more of like- giving some backstory as to why he was like what he is like now? I don’t know it was confusing I think he is just as confused as we are.”

Actions: she whispers and glanced over her shoulder back towards the Dalek who is now against the window with the Doctor talking at him - keeping him from moving away.

Henry: “Man- then we really are puppets to an insanely broken entity.”

Actions: he leans back with a huff, just watching the eyestalk of the Dalek turn from the Doctor to Rose then back again.

Olesia: “yup… But- he is starting to open up, which- I suppose is a miracle for anyone to experience with any sort of Dalek.”

Actions: she smiles then looks to Henry, poking his side a bit.

Olesia: “Do you remember those little things in the bio-tanks? I think the planet we were meant to land on would have had something more to do with them.”

Actions: she insists idly, ignoring the mess going on behind her.

Henry: “the tiny squids…”

Actions: he nods and keeps his eyes looking past Olesia to the situation unfolding over by the blue casing.

Okesia: “yes, I saw the files the Doctor opened, I knew the planned trajectory of our craft… but I didn’t know the history of the planet. It was some kind of mining planet- an abandoned attempt of conquest from the old Daleks.”

Actions: she turned to look over her shoulder one more moment before looking back at Henry.

Henry: “why would we want to go to an abandoned sector? Wouldn’t the Daleks of all creatures have abandoned it for good reason?”

Actions: he begins to stand when he hears shouting coming from the direction of the Dalek. It sounds as if the Doctor is shouting about how manipulative the Daleks are and how dare he command two people like they were puppets.

Olesia: “Maybe that’s the point? Hide in plain sight or… right under his empire's nose?”

Actions; she suggests and stretches as she stands. Both of them start walking towards the red in the face Doctor who was being pushed to the side by Rose.

Henry: “So raise an army right there- but if they abandoned it, it has to be dangerous…”

Actions: he picks up his face to a careful jog along Olesia’s side.

Olesia: “Better that than have them find him now- right?”

Actions: she slows just as they get to the Doctor who is still shouting at the Dalek.

Doctor: “You are a slave owner, how can you not see this?”

Actions: he snarls pointing his finger at the Dalek. He is being pushed back via Rose who is trying to call him down.

Rose: “Doctor stop, you’ve tried to explain to it the morals of what it’s done - it clearly doesn’t get it.”

Actions: she says sternly as she pushes him away. Olesia walks to the left of her while Henry is at the right, with all three of them they pull him a few good feet away from the Dalek letting it move away from the window it had been backed up against.

Doctor: “Or it just refuses to believe it itself!”

Actions: he shouts as he glared over Rose.

Olesia: “It doesn’t matter, Doctor- we’re stuck with him until I find a way to prevent the nanotechnology coursing through our veins from messing with our brains.”

Actions: she says in a hushed and quick tone. Both Henry and Olesia release her he Doctor and step around to Rose’s side to keep him walked off away from the Dalek.

Henry: “You aren’t helping by getting into a screaming match with him.”

Actions: he sighs and glances over his shoulder to the casing.

Henry: “You’re only causing stress- stress will only make him violent.”

Blueton: “ex- ex-ex-“

Olesia; “if you really want to help- just help us get off of this planet.”

Actions: she whispers and walks over to the casing, resting a hand on the dome and standing in the line of sight of the eyestalk to break eye contact.

Doctor: “so you’re just going to side with that monster?”

Olesia: “It’s safer than siding with you, Doctor.”

Actions: she sighs and looks over her shoulder to him.

Henry: “Just… be patient okay? And tone your Dalek hate down- it’s already painful enough to witness I don’t need you sending him into a full out war fury.”

Actions: he turns to leave the Doctor where he is, the man still fuming as he paces from side to side as he stared the trio down.

Scene: both Olesia and Henry are stood besides the blue Dalek. They are whispering, hands on the casing as they throw glances at the Doctor. The Doctor is at least a yard away at this point with Rose resting her hands on his shoulders to calm him down. She is trying to hold his attention on her.

Doctor: “I can’t just let them-“

Rose: “But you can, you and I both know if that tin can wanted to hurt anyone it would have already. Just- hear it out already… If you don’t - I will.”

Actions: she presses and stares into the Doctor’s eyes daring him to challenge her on this. When he blinks and looks away from her her posture relaxes into him.

Rose: “If they are insane to other Daleks, then maybe that is a good thing for us. Maybe because they are, they will be…”

Doctor: “What? Nicer? No. This is just another manipulation tactic- it is up to something. It *has* to be plotting something big-… we need to get back to that ship- to destroy that infant army growing there.”

Actions: he turns to stare towards the exit. With a grumble he shuffles past Rose leaving her in a huff standing there in the room alone.

Scene: Rose watches the Doctor rush to one of the entryways as he tries to find a way out. It is clear however that the doors are propped closed by the weight of the snow and ice that had accumulated against them. Rose wraps her arms around herself then moves towards the trio. Olesia has her arm wrapped around the neck and shoulder section of the casing while Henry has one hand resting on the Blue one’s dome. Both are using the casing to lean against.

Rose: “So… You three need help getting off of this planet?”

Camera: cuts away from them all to staring down from the sun to the crescent ship still resting in the snow. Credits begin to fade in as the snow’s howling winds fade out.

[multi-lefaiye]

MUTUALS POWERPOINT NIGHT: MULTI EDITION

HELLO gamers! it is i, tumblr user xavier multi-lefaiye, here to present my very good powerpoint to y'all. i am posting this early because i like being early <3

as some of you may know, i had a few other ideas for powerpoints, one of which i finished before going "hm i wanna do something else" and doing something else.

as i am sure you are all very well-aware by this point, my biggest fixation is tales from the gas station. so i decided to do my powerpoint about that instead of explaining in-depth how i'd rewrite every episode of notable bad horror tv series lost tapes. you're welcome <3

tagging the participants real quick (if i forgot you i prommy i am just forgetful and it was not intentional, ilsym): @wherearetheplants @nicola-writes @cnnamonrolls @abouttogetshellshocked @approximately20eggs @yourlocal-lichen @astralrunic

anyway! my slides will be under the cut, but if you'd rather see the actual presentation, here's the google slides link: [link]

comments are enabled but no one is obligated to leave any for any reason! i mainly enabled them because i may send this to some discord folks later who enjoy leaving silly comments.

anyway let's gooooo

[Transcript:

TALES FROM THE GAS STATION: A BRIEF SUMMARY

OR: an explanation of my blorbos

by tumblr user multi-lefaiye

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

what the fuck is this series?

Tales From the Gas Station started as a creepypasta series on the NoSleep subreddit

Then it kinda blew up and became popular enough that the creator reworked and rewrote the series to make them into books

There are four books total and also a seven-part comic series in the works!

Essentially, this is a horror-comedy series centering around a character named Jack Townsend, the minimum-wage employee of a shitty gas station at the edge of an even shittier small town, which also happens to be the epicenter of many supernatural happenings

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

DISCLAIMER

I haven’t finished reading the full series yet because [redacted] redacted] [redacted]

But regardless I’m MOSTLY basing this presentation on book one to avoid spoiling later events for people who wanna check this out themselves :)

This is not an exhaustive presentation unfortunately.

Look at this raccoon

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: An image of a raccoon behind the wheel of a car, positioned as though it's driving. End ID.]

[Transcript:

Content warnings!!

So I’m not gonna go into the triggering stuff in this presentation, but if you wanna check out TFTGS yourself I wanna give a heads up where I can.

I also will try to give context to things where I can if I feel that it’s needed, but yeah point is I want to make sure anyone who checks this out knows what they’re getting into.

Anyway full list of warnings on the next slide let’s go

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Okay here are the actual content warnings

There are a few side/minor characters who are really blatantly racist and xenophobic b/c TFTGS does not shy away from the fact that it takes place in a small, shitty southern US town--these characters are condemned by the narrative and clearly The Assholes but still, tread lightly.

Casual ableism, especially towards Jack, including the use of the r-slur (once again also condemned by the narrative but still)

Lots and lots of violence and murder

Suicide

Lots of talk of terminal illness

Drug use

Cults

Psychiatric abuse

SOME graphic depictions of blood n’ gore n’ corpses, but the gore is never the focus thankfully

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

CHARACTERS!!!

FULL DISCLAIMER: THIS IS ALL PRETTY MUCH MY INTERPRETATIONS OF THE CHARACTERS. Many of them don't have much in the way of physical descriptions and these are all just my personal designs for the characters :) Yay

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

JACK TOWNSEND

The universe’s favorite punching bag

He’s got that autistic tboy swag and I love him so so much

Chronically ill since he was in high school

Just fucking vibing

Frequently gets insulted and beaten down and it stresses me out but he gets less and less chill about it as the series goes on. I think he deserves to throw rocks at people

I relate to him a lot and idk what that says about me <3

Blorbo <3333

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Jack Townsend from Tales From the Gas Station, a tired young white man with dark bags under his eyes, a small beard, and shaggy black hair. He looks worried and is wearing a blue shirt under a black hoodie. End ID.]

[Transcript:

ANTONIO / TONY

So I’m not quite sure how to talk about him without spoiling a bunch of shit

Ah well

One of Jack’s coworkers and his best friend in volume 1!

Kind of a sweet, anxious guy who’s just trying his best

What’s a little accidental murder between besties??? It was an accident, it’s fine.

King of being a really good and trustworthy guy with nothing else going on

I love him genuinely

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Antonio from Tales From the Gas Station, a young Latino man with tan skin, curly brown hair, multiple piercings in his ears, and a beard. He has his mouth open as though he's speaking, and he wears a blue collared shirt under a denim jacket. End ID.]

[Transcript:

JERRY PASCAL

Jack’s emotional support human and bestie

Kind of like a puppy, except that puppy does a lot of illegal shit and kills people

Former member of a murderous cult called Mathmetism

Referred to as Marlboro for most of the first book b/c Jack doesn’t know his name

Big stupid energy but also the smartest bitch in the room. Depends on what would be funnier

Would fight god in the parking lot

If he’s being serious, something is wrong

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Jerry Pascal from Tales From the Gas Station, a white man with shaggy blond hair, a small beard, and multiple piercings in his ears. He has a wide smirk on his face and wears a yellow t-shirt with a graphic of the sun across the front under a red hoodie jacket, and one hand is visibly holding a cigarette. End ID.]

[Transcript:

SPENCER MIDDLETON

MY POOR LITTLE MEOW MEOW

Too sexy and evil for gender

My design for him is very far from canon and I am aware of that. However I think everyone should draw him as a long-haired prettyboy <3

He’s just so babygirl <3

I hate him and love him in equal measure

God let him live another day and that’s everyone else’s problem

Anyway I just think he’s neat and should do more crimes

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Spencer Middleton from Tales From the Gas Station, a white man with long ginger hair, a light beard, and pierced ears. He has a sharp grin on his face, showing his sharp teeth, and is wearing all black. End ID.]

[Transcript:

AMELIA O'BRIEN

Cop (unfortunate)

I have very mixed feelings about her as a character ngl and most of them tie back to her being a cop

I do think she’s interesting though

Wish she’d cool it with the casual ableism though <3 Like I know it’s not just her but goddamn

Anyway I guess she counts as a #girlboss

One time one of my friends compared her to the gay cop in Onward and I can’t stop thinking about it because God So True

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Amelia O'Brien, a Black woman with dark hair pulled back into a bun and pierced ears. She has a stern expression on her face and wears a light shirt under a dark vest and brown jacket, with one hand holding a cigarette. End ID.]

[Transcript:

ROSA VASQUEZ

Sweetest girl in the world

Technically doesn’t show up until volume 2 but I love her so much so I’m talking about her here

Newest hire at the gas station and completely unprepared for The Horrors

She adapts pretty quickly though

Has a really huge really obvious crush on Jack and tbh I think it’s cute

Unfortunately he is oblivious

Besides that though she’s a very fun character and makes me very happy :)

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Rosa Vasquez from Tales From the Gas Station, a young Latina woman with brown skin, dark brown hair that hangs loosely around her shoulders, and pink earrings. She has a wide smile on her face and is wearing a pink shirt under a dark denim jacket, with one hand held up in a peace sign. End ID.]

[Transcript:

SABINE

We don’t need to talk about her

So we’re not going to talk about her

You have to read volume 2 to get this backstory

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picrew of Sabine from Tales From the Gas Station, a young woman with lightly tanned skin, pierced ears, curly brown hair, and freckles. Her mouth is open slightly and she wears a black choker, a black t-shirt with a skull on it, and a red jacket. Two of her hands are held up and her pointer fingers are pressed together. End ID.]

[Transcript:

MISC. CHARACTERS I'M NOT MAKING PICREWS OF

Kieffer - the world’s most killable man! A local politician and, arguably, part of the reason everything goes to shit.

Benjamin - a monster hunter who’s convinced that there’s something evil in the gas station. And he’s gonna kill it.

Vanessa Riggin - another employee at the gas station who unfortunately disappears during volume 1.

Brother Riley - local bookstore owner and ray of sunshine! Got basically excommunicated for teaching kids to read

Dr. V - psychiatric abuse: the character! (Jack’s psychiatrist who doesn’t seem particularly interested in actually helping him)

Deputy Tom - cop (unfortunate), but also Jack’s kinda father figure.

Agents Brick Roscoe - idk how to even get into this so I simply will not.

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

PLOT!!!

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: Two edited memes featuring raccoons. One shows a raccoon facing the camera, with a photoshopped human hand holding a gun pointing at the viewer. The other shows a raccoon in front of a sunset and looking to the left, with a faded image of a screaming raccoon behind it. The second meme reads: "Physically pained, Mentally drained" / End ID.]

[Transcript:

Volume 1 Premise

The premise of volume 1 centers quite a bit around Kieffer, a local politician.

Picture this: your best friend pulls you aside at work and asks you about the guy who just came into the store. After you explain who the guy is, your friend says, “No, that can’t be him. I killed him last night. His body is in my trunk.”

That’s the day Jack is having.

A wild series of events follows, made worse when Jack starts documenting his experiences in a blog to keep himself sane

People start going missing! Other people start dying! Kieffer especially starts dying!

Jack is not being paid enough to deal with any of this!

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Other things about volume 1 I wanna say, minus context

I think Spencer Middleton is babygirl material and I will not be silenced b/c I am so right

There is a genuinely really clever bit of writing in volume 1 centering around Jack’s leg injury but I don’t know how to explain it without spoilers so just know I think it’s really cool

The Bathroom Cowboy is a cool dude and I think I would like to be his best friend

I think Jack should be allowed to have a nice day for once in his fucking life

Rita the raccoon is a girlboss

The Man in the Raincoat is so gender

Agents Brick Roscoe confuse and frighten me. They’re also really funny

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Here's a quote from volume 1 that I think captures the style of comedy well

She walked up to the counter and smiled and asked, "What do you think?"

What a great question. I think a lot of things, actually. I ran through a shortlist of answers. I think people spend too much time mowing their lawns. I think Marlboro's probably dead, and I may be somewhat responsible. I think no man ever steps in the same river twice. I think that, in terms of reality, perception outweighs actuality in every case, but if I were to say something like that in this town I'd get my ass kicked for being a pretentious dick. I think Tony was too hard on 'Temple of Doom.' I think every magazine is a scam. (Why should I pay for a magazine when it's already full of advertisements?) I think forcing children to recite the pledge of allegiance is creepy, and hot dogs are not sandwiches (they are, in fact, American tacos). I think things at the gas station are getting worse and I can't explain why.

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

by viewing this presentation you promise that if you ever read tftgs you have to tell me (tumblr user multi-lefaiye) all of your thoughts about it

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

i’m kidding, you don’t have to, i just wanna talk about this series with people

/ End Transcript]

[Transcript:

Thanks

/ End Transcript]

[Image Description: A picture of a raccoon sitting up and with its forepaws together, its teeth bared in a way that makes it looks like it's grinning evilly. End ID.]

[kravicle]

so i decided to go more in depth to explain my choices, particularly Laios, Marcille and Falin. spoilers for the dungeon meshi manga (and for homestuck). warning: LONG post ahead

so first i gotta explain that this was a presentation i made for some of my friends (you can even see i forgot to include Actual examples for mages and instead it's just my name lol). a lot of my points i was explaining out loud as i went, and i was relying on audience questions to expand upon it, so i apologise for the barebones quality of the og post. now that that's been established, let us theorize shall we.

first, laios. his was the one that came easiest to me to explain, even going over my limit of one slide per explanation and giving him two. i think we can all agree that blood is his aspect so im gonna gloss over that.

why page, though? well first, i am part of the truthers that believe pages are an active class and knights are the passive. crazy, i know. but the knights that we know and are familiar with, mainly dave and karkat, are Not active displays to me. let me explain.

BEFORE ANYTHING, let me reiterate that classpecting is for fun, and that this is my opinion, and that (most controversial take of all time) canon cannot be 100% relied on. <- this problem is twofold. one, because mythological roles are not and have never been a key part of homestucks narrative from hussie's perspective, rather they are more incidental. john is a goofy kid not because heirs or breath are inherently goofy things, but because his character IS goofy. eridan is a genocide supporter not because he "destroys hope", but because he is a caricature of a type of nasty person on the internet in the late 2000s. a character's classpect, in my opinion, does not actually influence the choices they take on the story, because when the story was being written, sticking to choices that would make sense to the mythological role was never a main concern. it ONLY plays a part when the story explicitly says "this is important now", like when john does the windy thing, or when terezi uses her mind powers to retcon gameover. the second component to the problem is that, we don't have a lot of information to go on, and the information we Do have is unreliable at best. take for example aranea. she loves to infodump, but her goals were to come back to life and insert herself as the person that would Fix the Narrative all along, so did anything she ever say was actually 100% unbiased and correct, and we can guarantee none of it served ulterior motives to further her goals by picking and choosing what information to give, and to whom? obviously not, and to think otherwise would be ridiculous. and calliope, though she is a character that wants to help the kids, similarly cannot be relied on. this is because she is a cherub and not a human (or troll), thus everything she thinks is influenced by Duality. do classes that are exclusively male or female really exist, or can she not think of them any other way? for that matter, do passive and active classes exist? we already know from jade's arc that looking into skaia uncritically does not actually provide you with full information, just incomplete. calliope also avoided going in depth for fear of breaking her taboos. ALL THAT TO SAY, canon is dubious at best. we don't have any other way of theorising though, so ill still be using it, but i wanted you all to be aware on where i stand. this is also why i reject classpect verbiage out of hand too (ex. describing classes like Someone who _ or who uses _ to x ends). none of that shit is canon, just widely accepted fanon. i prefer to categorize it by trajectory rather than usage.

so for knights. i believe the trajectory knights go is to stop serving the roles they have been assigned by society, and start serving themselves, making them mostly passive and learning to be more proactive. i think we can all agree that knights in popular belief embody certain aspects like chivalry, protection of the weak, and adherence to a code. dave is at first an irony-poisoned dudebro and his main struggle is rejecting the toxic masculinity imposed by society and reinforced by Bro. at the beginning he has antiquated views on gender (similar to john, but his are more naive). everything dave does is Ironic or Cool, this is his code. over the course of the comic, he comes to term with his sexuality, with the domestic abuse he suffered at the hands of his guardian, and rejects the irony for sincerity, and in turns rejects the aspirations of grandeur the story seemingly wants to impose on him (he doesnt want to compete with john on the godtier race, and he was prophesized to be the one to kill lord english but he settles for killing english jack). karkat is very similar, and why they work as an endgame ship so well. karkats code is the violence of troll society, and he believes he should be the leader of his session and of trolls. he does a great job at keeping the party from killing each other for weeks! but he isnt fit to that long term, imo, and he realises this (first in the game over timeline by competing on the meteor over Who was in charge and becoming increasingly neurotic about it, and then by letting vriska call the shots in the retconned timeline). he eventually even escapes the confines of troll romance, his other passion, and finds a partnership w dave that goes beyond quadrant configuration (like his ancestor before him, and how dave does with his attraction to men). their trajectory goes from being the most staunch supporters of an external system, to breaking free of it and being themselves.

laios... isn't like this at all. sure, he is very kind and chivalrous, and he definitely puts himself in harms way to protect his friends... but those qualities alone not a knight make. i dont really think laios has any sort of code that he believes in, and his interest in monsters is much more personal and, above-all, earnest.

i think earnestness is one of the defining qualities of pages. pages are also associated with knighthood, the historical definition being an attendant to people of importance, graduating later on to squires and then to knights. i think why i conceptualise pages as active in comparison to knights is the framing: knighthood is something that is bestowed upon you (a passive act), and though it is the ultimate goal of the page, i think starting from the bottom means there is Active Work put into to get that far. you can definitely call jake and tavros the bottom of the ladder, from a narrative standpoint. those two also lived in secluded environments, with One Specific Dream that made their days less lonely and more bearable (for jake, it was adventure, for tavros it was magic), and i think this is reflected on laios for his passion for monsters. it is interesting that they all also wish to become something they aren't and then DO become that with caveats, jake a famous adventurer (realised in his pre scratch version of grandpa), tavros pupa pan (rufioh) and laios a monster (his ultimate servant).

though we don't see what a fully realised page could be like in canon, the understanding that it would become an Extremely Powerful class is very present. i think the pokemon allegory works in several levels, not just mechanically but thematically: tavros plays troll pokemon, laios loves monsters and jake is surrounded by them. take magikarp, the memeable magikarp, that can only splash uselessly until it evolves into gyarados, one of the coolest pokemon of gen 1. or trapinch, that has to wait until level 35 to become vibrava, when all starters have gained their final evolution by then. you get my point. laios can only trudge forward in his relationships, becoming "worse and worse" in the eyes of other people (he wasnt ostracised from his village, falin was. he couldnt make friends in the army, but no one Hated him. his party didnt fully respect him but they got along fine, until he displayed his love for monsters, and THEN people started to become progressively more put out by him, and having the canaries trying to kill him thinking HE was the dungeon lord when marcille was, just because of how his infamy/love of monsters spread), until Finally, finally he gets to be the monster he always wanted to be, he eats the winged lion and saves humanity, and with it becomes king. knights serve kings, dont become them. arthur and his knights share many similarities, but ultimately, he reigns over camelot and they support him.

laios character arc is not to reject societal expectations (he always did that, anyway), but to Accept them in part after he's been realized. in the post canon comics, he accepts he cannot go dungeoning anymore, since he is king and has kingdom to look after. he focuses his efforts on food and providing for others, since due to his curse he can never see another monster again. it is tragic, actually, in my opinion, but it is undeniable that he goes from selfish desires to humanitarian ones. laios IS selfish, but it's not a bad thing. he wanted to escape being human by turning into a monster. he left falin even though she was the one suffering, because he couldnt bear to see it happen. at the end of everything he accepts those responsibilities, supported by the people closest to him, and makes melini and prosperous kingdom.

now marcille. i admit, i was between time and doom for her, seeing as inevitability is such a big part of her character arc, but i decided to go for time. for many reasons which i will explain, but one key deciding factor for me is that she struggles with her own chronology- that reeks of time. she literally lives out of sync with the rest of humanity, even with other half elves as they all age at different rates. she has the classic struggle of longevity curses in fiction (has to see everyone she loves die), WITH the addition of being Too Mature for her age in some respects, and too childish in others. dave and aradia were also forced to grow up too quickly, one having to defend himself against his guardian, one who actively Died. and both are given a new chance to enjoy life at their own pace after they reach godtier!

i dont think rage fits her since devotion is, to me, way more hope aligned, since being so devoted to something you so bad you are willing to bend the rules of what is possible. who cares about material reality? I Believe, Baby. that's hope to me. and though it could describe marcille, she is more complex than that (and her character arc goes somewhere else).

sollux is our only prominent doom character, but i think what describes him best is Resigned. the voices of the soon to be dead resonate for him, but he accepts this. death is simply something that happens to you. time characters are also related to the dead, but they are HAUNTED by it (aradia by the voices of the dead, dave by his alternate selves dying, even caliborn to a certain extent does everything he does to spite and mock his deceased sister). for time players, death is not a fact of life, an immutable order of the cosmos, but rather a morbid constant reminder of what their aspect gears towards- the opposite of creation.

marcille is haunted by the mere concept of death, and more prominently by the deaths of her father and falin. a doom player, in my opinion, needs to learn to be less defeatist, less judgemental. marcilles lesson is to Stop Working Against Nature, and she says as much at the end of it.

[insert panel here]

this also brings me to my mage interpretation. seers are scholars, and yes marcille is a scholar and researcher too, but her methods are trial-and-error based. i think the distinction between first-hand knowledge and second-hand knowledge is a bit reductive. compare with rose, or terezi, or even kabru! they all instinctively understand key concepts related to their aspects, and can apply them easily and accurately, without needing for things to blow up in their faces first. not to say they don't suffer tragedies, because they do- kabru as the survivor of utaya, terezi with her blindness, rose going grimdark. but those tragedies, though reinforcing their understanding in some way, arent what made them gain knowledge. mages... aren't like this.

i think a very clear example is the mandrake chapter. marcille has learnt the proper method from her textbook, and is irritated when senshi does things his own way, but she's never actually Tried it before. and when she tries to apply it, she realises that dogs and giant bats aren't equivalent in fact, and it could have had disastrous consequences. idk about you, but i think a seer would have probably realised why casters use dogs in the first place, and what a suitable alternative could be, without having to nearly go deaf or insane first.

marcille is very good at retaining theoretical knowledge, but she doesnt seem to Get It until she tries it out for herself. like the cockatrice chapter! she knows, theoretically, that a big noise will distract the monster, and has seen laios use it before. but if she tried it out the exact same way, she'd die, so she has to do it her Own Way (with a big explosion!). and even then, she still gets bitten by it for her efforts!!

or when she tried to explain magic to laios, and forgot to let him know about mana sickness. because mana sickness is something that happens the first time you cast, and she already experienced it, so... it didn't cross her mind at having to explain it. compare the familiars to save senshi as well. she has enough theoretical knowledge to make them, but first she believes form "isnt important", only to realise Yes it Is actually, animals and monsters are optimised for their purposes. so she creates a second, better familiar, using laios' advice, but it's not enough. it is only after losing two familiars that she gains enough understanding to make the Skyfish, whose express purpose is to be FAST to save senshi.

i dont think mages need to shun textbooks to be effective at all. but, i think the main differences is that, where seers Can and are perfectly capable to learn solely by textbook or hypothetical scenarios, for mages that only goes so far, and you need to test it out yourself to finish your learning. compare with kabru, again, who i believe is a really good example of a seer. he has learnt so much about the human body, psychology, geopolitics, magic- you name it, simply by having it explained to him. he hasnt learnt how Monsters work, however (and understandably so), and so no matter how many times he dies, the lesson doesnt seem to stick. it is not until he tries to kill chimera falin, and laios explains she probably has different organs, that he goes Oh, okay, i get it now. he needed someone to point out the biological differences to him. for marcille, i think it would be the opposite: she could understand someone saying "the organs are different" perfectly fine, but it is not until she Died after trying to kill it that she would go Ohhhh I see. like the first time she died by slime!

laios pointing out the real marcille dumping water carelessly after she had already been attacked by an undine serves to reinforce it- she Needs that lesson to stick a few times.

and, of course, here be the resurrection of falin. she executed it perfectly- from the ancient magic she had studied. there's a pretty big misstep, though, and one that cost the party dearly and made falin turn into a chimera: the use of the dragon meat. marcille Knows you need tons of meat for a resurrection, and they use pigs or sheep or other livestock for it. but why not dragon or monster meat? let's try it out! and you see what happens. using the red dragon as a component is what allowed thistle to control falin, because he is the dungeon lord and can control the monsters inside. she had to make that mistake for herself to fully understand the implications of what she'd done, and why people don't use monster meat despite it being more available.

speaking of dungeon lords- mithrun tried to tell her about the nature of the demon, thistle was an obvious and glaring example of what being a dungeon lord does to you, and marcille STILL succumbed to the winged lion. i dont blame her, she was in an extremely stressful situation and it was her only viable choice, but no amount of "perhaps this is a bad idea" deterred her. she manages to bind the winged lion back to the book after the party makes her come to her senses, and it is THEN she realises "That's why thistle had you in a book!"

this is why i stick by my initial choices of page of blood and mage of time for laios and marcille respectively.

hope this was an interesting read!

here is my masterpiece. enjoy

[moniston]

Netflix Shera was bad like really bad

so recently I revisited Shera and my view of the show got worse. from the pacing, the world-building, the characters and literally everything was either half-baked or just left a bunch of loose ends. the show's biggest letdown was the world-building, it was really underdeveloped. In the show, there are 8 princesses so there are 8 kingdoms right? And the show in the beginning mostly focuses on Adora building up the rebellion back up and meeting up with the other princesses so which means she and glimmer bow need to travel from kingdom to kingdom. so why did it feel like they would travel city from city, not the entire ass planet, in the middle of the show I forgot that Etheria was a PLANET, not just a country. the kingdoms themselves felt and were so empty and the castles also. so you're telling me none of these princesses had counselors, generals, other royal family members, etc?? we barely saw any civilians and glimmer castle didn't even have a jail and was even made as a joke during season 3 when shadow weaver was locked up. when mermista kingdom fell to hordak and was taken the show was so serious but all I could do is sit there and laugh in confusion and just how ridiculous. who first of all leaves their kingdom with no LEADERSHIP??? like was there no one telling these girls "Hey, you guys can't just leave we need a leader here" but the show completely slides over that. which all leads to a number of plot holes and loose ends in the story. how did none of the princesses build up their military??? like how did they fight off hordak for years with no weapons, military soldiers, etc?? you're telling me all these girls' kingdoms have no military, cities to handle, royal family members, or any advisors?? they don't even get the police force or some sort, it felt so unserious. The next thing is humans, bow is human and his parents are human and his dads mentioned university so does that mean there are other humans and universities too? we never got to meet another human besides Bow or ever hear of Bow "university" ever again, it felt like the creators only made that episode to show bows dads and just glossed off that info as always. The next thing that was my biggest pet peeve, was the first ones. Adora's past and the first ones but never went past actually showing a first one and what happened to them after, what happened to shera family and the current condition of their people. the show focused so much on adding trauma as reasoning to Catra's batshit actions instead of actually focusing on the plots they introduced. let's not forget we never found out why horde prime became a totalitarian space leader. did he just wake up one day and was "Hey, why don't I take over the entire GALAXY??" or wtv. also, how did 3 individuals help liberate and outdo most of Horde's prime rule on the planets?? it felt like just a rushed and cheap way to explain how the other planets were liberated after horde prime was defeated. That's the problem, the series felt rushed and the plots keep being added and left hanging and glossed over for character mental breakdowns and relationships. there are also other issues such as the animation but that's not much of a problem for me but is noticeable because of the lazy writing. I can give credit to its humor even if it cringes at times and characterization which later becomes a problem later on, especially for Catra whose so-called sorry scene was more like suicide for her and who literally gave up on living. the way the fandom talked about the show made you think shera was this mature and smart show that portrays mental illness and relationships in "realistic" ways... literally being so unserious.

[akirakurusuimagines]

had the idea of reader getting marin karin'd and it not wearing off after leaving the metaverse so our dear boy helps her out by gently overstimulating her in front of a mirror 👉👈

I'm sorry for how long it's been taking to get this out! Hopefully the others won't take as long. Please enjoy! (minors DNI)

It only takes one mistake for everything to fall apart.

Akira believed they were sufficiently prepared to waltz right into Mementos and explore the depths that opened after the public’s response to their latest and greatest heist. He disregarded Morgana’s incessant warning that he was running low on ailment-curing items and revival items, reminding the cat that he was already planning on putting him and Makoto on the front lines this time so there was nothing to worry about.

So really, this mess was his fault. As leader, he knows he shoulders the responsibility of anything and everything that happens, even if his teammates don’t blame him.

It began to storm back in the real world as they reached the end of the current depths⁠; a painstakingly slow thirteen floors⁠ to comb through in search of treasure and experience. Everyone was nearing their physical and mental limits for the day, but at the sight of a rare challenger on their way back, they let their youthful recklessness seep through. One more, they all thought, one more to end the trip on a high note.

The high note they sought after quickly⁠ and almost comically⁠ became shrill.

The battle turned for the worst: unable to find a weakness, you and Mona were left with minimal SP, Queen had suffered an ill-timed critical attack and was knocked out cold, and Joker himself was running on fumes. Mind scattered in desperation, Joker attempted to regain some footing by attacking the particularly strong enemy with Marin Karin, hoping to charm it.

He didn’t expect that the enemy would end up reflecting it back at him.

Nor that you would take the brunt of the attack by jumping in front of him last-minute.

Joker and Mona finished the battle through sheer dumb luck, and all of the thieves expected things to return to normal. Queen stood up on shaky legs and thanked Panther for medicine, but when they turned to look at you, their hearts dropped.

Your face was flushed and eyes glassy, no different than how you were in battle. The unspoken rules of Mementos was broken⁠—somehow you didn’t come to once the fight finished.

Joker took to your side immediately, helping you up but freezing at the garbled moan that slipped past your lips the moment his hands landed on you. The others looked on with concern and fear, not understanding why this was happening, but it was obvious to everyone that they needed to leave immediately. He apologized to them and announced that he’ll be taking you home to make sure you’re safe and resting while the others research the strange divergence.

His arm wrapped loosely around your waist, keeping you steady as you mindlessly clung to him, and ushered you out of Mementos and towards the trains.

Akira felt like he was suffocating. If this is how he was feeling, he could only start to imagine what you’re suffering through right now.

He kept you hidden from view as best as he could, squished in the corner between the door, the seats, and him. Akira put you in a spare face mask he had and slid his glasses over your nose, hoping to protect your identity in case any snooping individual lingered on you two a little too long.

“Hold on just a little longer for me, okay? We’re almost there.”

He watched your knees buckle and your thighs clench together at his words and felt his mouth run dry. Akira willed himself to stay calm, to steady his heartbeat, but it wasn’t exactly an easy thing to do when you were in a state like this. Especially considering he harbored feelings for you.

“Please,” you begged. He almost didn’t hear it with how quietly you murmured it. “Akira, I… I need…”

Fuck, you were going to be the death of him.

“Yeah?” he leaned in closer, hoping to catch the rest of what you’re saying.

Your hand grabbed his thigh, tugging his leg closer to you and causing him to stumble forward, balancing with his forearm next to your head. He stared at you with wide eyes as you shifted his leg with no resistance between your thighs and sat on it, slowly and carefully grinding against it.

Akira’s head whipped around, making sure no one was watching as you shamelessly used his leg to relieve some of the pressure that Marin Karin’s charm had on you. He nearly stopped breathing when you whined right next to his ear, a sound too soft for anyone else to notice as the train screeched to another halt.

Your stop was next, but there was no way he was making it out of this without a boner. He looked back at you and swallowed hard, only able to see the way your eyes were screwed shut and eyebrows knitted with frustration and concentration, pressing yourself a little harder against the meat of his thigh.

“Need more, ‘s too hot,” you blabbered softly, hands gripping the lapel of his blazer. “want you, want you so bad⁠—”

“We⁠—we’re almost home,” Akira choked out, each passing moment more difficult than the last. He wanted to pinch himself, wondering if this was actually some wild porno dream he was having back in Leblanc, but the way you felt rutting against his thigh like this was far too real for him to deny this was reality.

“Akiraaaa...”

He nearly lost himself when he saw your teary-eyed expression, suddenly grateful for the crowded train dissuading him from bending you over the train seats and giving into temptation. Akira wanted to know every part of you: every touch that makes you keen, every kiss that makes your head spin, every position that makes you cream.

Akira almost praised the gods aloud when the announcer comments on your stop, pulling himself off of you despite your whines and taking your hand in his, squeezing it tightly as he nearly runs out of the train the second the doors behind you open.

It was quite the ordeal dragging you back home. Every moment he stopped, your hands would wander, gripping his shirt or his belt loops, sliding your hand underneath to feel the warmth of his skin. You pressed closer and closer against him, your inhibitions far-gone, leaving only your charmed mind.

He grabbed your wrist firmly when you reached for his crotch at the door to your house, sucking in a large breath and hoping you’d be able to contain yourself enough for him to open the door with your keys and lead you inside.

Akira pushed open the door and dragged you inside, kicking it closed and locking it quickly. He couldn’t help the whole-body sigh that passed through him with the relief of privacy.

You, however, took it as your cue to tackle him to the ground and relieve yourself.

“Shit, wait, hold on⁠—” Akira staggered back, gripping your hip and arm and barley catching himself. “Are you sure you want to do this? You don’t want to try to get… uh… get off on your own?”

“No no no no no⁠—!” you shook your head adamantly despite your slurred voice, the sheer panic in your voice and face surprising him. “Want you, only you, please.”

Akira pressed his lips together in a tight line and hoisted you up in his arms, silently thanking the rough training he’s been enduring with Ryuji. The way your eyes lit up as he carried you to your bedroom made his heart palpitate, the rational side of him quickly losing to the promise of passion.

He really was weak to you.

He grunted as his legs hit the bed, falling down with you on his lap. Akira barely had time to speak before your lips were all over him, kissing all over his face and jaw as you roughly grinded against him. He choked down his moans and tangled a hand in your hair, hoping to slow you down with a sharp tug to your scalp.

Akira felt you seize up the moment he did, nails digging into his shoulders despite the layers of clothing, pressing your hips harder against his, and with a loud cry, he felt dampness against his crotch. It took a moment to process that you came untouched, just from him having you in his lap and tugging your hair.

“Did you just…?” his hand wandered towards your pants, slipping inside your underwear and feeling the sticky substance coat his fingers as he reached your thighs. He pulled them out, observing the strands between his fingers and licking them clean with a low groan. “That’s so hot. You’re so fucking hot.”

Akira palmed your crotch and felt you shudder as you rolled your hips against his again. “But… it isn’t enough, right?”

“Nnno…”

He looked around the room briefly and caught his own eyes in the floor-length mirror in your room.

“Stand up for me and strip, sweetheart,” Akira instructed with a gentle slap to your thigh.

He loved the way you scrambled off of him, shedding your clothes and looking at him with the same hazy doe-eyes that made him spend countless private hours fantasizing about. You looked at him with so much lust, being so obedient for him in hopes of getting another orgasm.

He shrugged off his blazer and tossed it aside, shifting closer to the mirror until it stood in front of him. “Turn around and sit back on my lap.”

Akira steadied you with gentle hands on your hips as you sat on his lap and pressed your sticky thighs together to feel some kind of friction against the torturous heat. He pried them open, spreading your legs to straddle him and spreading you open for the mirror.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he gently chided, “keep these pretty thighs open for me, okay?”

Akira refused to touch you until you nodded.

“Perfect,” he whispered, resting his chin on your shoulder, “you’re absolutely perfect.” Akira guided his hands up from your thighs to your chest, brushing against your nipples and continuing his path up until he reached your face. He cupped your cheeks in his hands and tilted your face up, forcing you to look at the shameful display you created with him. “I want you to look at yourself as I touch you,” Akira explained, “I want you to see everything.”

You nodded dumbly, anything to get his hands back to pleasuring you. “Please,” you continued to repeat with breathless whines, “I want more, I want you in me.” You pushed your ass harder against his hard cock, hoping he would take the bait. You wanted to be fucked silly and at this point you really didn’t care how you got there.

Akira sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut and stilling for a few seconds as you continued to grind yourself on his dick. “Later, okay?” his voice wavered and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his own word with how enthusiastic you seemed about riding him.

He let go of your face and skimmed your inner thighs, catching the cum from your first orgasm on his fingers and finally touching you properly. You keened, head falling back as he slowly pressed two fingers into your hole. “Yes⁠!” you groaned, spreading your thighs a little further and bucking your hips into his hand, “More, please, oh god it feels so good⁠— hnn!”

Akira’s hand steadied your head, once again pushing you to look at yourself as his fingers thrusted in and out of you. “Come on, baby. Don’t stop watching,” he purred as he scissored his fingers inside of you. “Oh, you liked that?”

You grasped his hair and his wrist, incoherent noises fumbling from your lips as Akira brought you to another orgasm within minutes. Marin Karin had quite the effect on you: keeping your stamina high and your libido higher, giving you more orgasms than you’ve had in your life, emptying your head and leaving nothing but pleasant buzzing.

He stared at you in the mirror, catching your unfocused gaze as your eyes shifted from his face to his hand and back again. “You’re doing so good,” Akira mumbled strings of words he barely paid attention to as you squirmed in his hold. He added another finger, stretching you out further and curling his fingers inside of you. He felt your legs shake and watched your jaw go slack as pleasure only continued to build.

“Again?” he asked, groaning at how you clench around his fingers, barely giving him room to move them. Even still, you continue to thrust your hips into his hands⁠, unsatisfied. “I’ll give you as many orgasms as you need,” Akira promised, kissing your cheek and resting his temple against yours, “I won’t stop until you’re begging.”

[tuiyla]

You think Santana never found out about the Mayan wedding? (this sounds like I'm calling you stupid lol please know that's not what I mean at all! I just want to know your thoughts) I always assumed Tina or someone would have told her. Although if she did know then how would Sam continue being alive🤔 I can't believe Brittany's first marriage wasn't even with Santana 😭 I can't believe flopson has some sort of a career in hollywood

That's a good point, s4 one-sided Santina feud wouldn't stand for Santana living in blissful ignorance lol. Imagine this: Tina's attempt at "getting back at" Santana backfires. Because of her "one word: Bram. gotta go hon" Santana is back at McKinley yet again and performing Nutbush, not what Tina wants when she's trying to prove she's the divaest of all. So, blinded by pettiness and maybe getting wind of Santana wanting Britt back, she lets it slide to Santana (with a smirk on of course).

"Oh, didn't you hear? Sam and Brittany got married just before Christmas. That's right, married."

And Tina's really proud of herself for a second because Santana's been stealing her thunder all year and this is her gotcha moment (for some reason lol). But instead of Santana being pissed, she just... starts crying. And Tina's like, shit, she doesn't know what to do here. Except she does, because suddenly the one-sided feud even Santana "psychic third eye" Lopez is unaware of doesn't seem that important.

I don't think Santina would actually have a heart-to-heart here but you're right, why wouldn't Tina tell her? Even putting the ridiculous and beloved feud apart, Santinacedes have their gossip line going. So Tina's bound to blurt it out to both of Bram's past significant others that the two (kinda, almost, not really) got married. Suffice to say Santana takes it way more seriously, and personally, than Mercedes does.

Luckily it was just a joke wedding because Sheldon the king stepped in but, within the show's logic, Bram fully believe they're married for like what, a week? And Brittany can explain it away to Santana and not that Santana had any entitlement to her anyway at that point but, I mean, fuck, it's gotta still hurt you know? I don't believe for a second Santana wouldn't spiral over it even just a little bit. Imagine if your ex who you've been in love with for years and only broke up with due to long distance told you she got married to a dude she'd been dating for a literal week.

Oh and to answer the question itself, whether Santana ever found out about the Mayan wedding... Idk. Probably? Sooner or later? It does hugely matter how, though, because it's different to find out from Tina as Bram are actively dating and to, say, hear a throwaway line form Britt when Brittana are engaged/married. But she'd be hurt either way. Well at least thank fuck Brittany had one actual marriage and one marriage only. Focusing on the happy thought of Brittana being wives instead of the utter insult of the Mayan wedding lol.

On the note of Flopson, ughhhh. I wish no ill on him as a person but god do I wish he stayed far, far away from Glee. What a gigantic flop of a screenwriter I hate almost every single thing he did.

[dragonmuse]

My friend and I just did a reread of the faith fix (and ofc the au of the au as a bandaid after). Would love a ficlet of izzy spending time with both his wife and boyfriend. Perhaps them ganging up on h to tease him

(To the AU of the AU! All aboard! Hope you enjoy, anon!) 

Izzy was making breakfast when Lucius wandered in, just in his underwear, and kissed Izzy  on the cheek then  plastered himself to his back. 

“Gonna get hot oil on you,” Izzy warned. 

“Meh. You’re a human apron. What are we eating?” 

“Hash browns with sausage. Mixed in some of the peppers and onions from dinner last night.” 

“Such a good house spouse,” Lucius teased. 

“Fuck off,” Izzy snorted. 

“It’s too early for profanity, Israel,” Faith scolded, shuffling in. She had on his slippers and her favorite fluffy black robe that enveloped her. 

“Yeah, Izzy,” Lucius grinned.  

“Luc, is there coffee yet?” She asked. 

“Uh,” Lucius unglued himself to check the pot. “Yes. Sit, I’ll make it.” 

“Thank you.”  

For a moment there was quiet as Lucius poured three cups, doctoring them to specifics, then leaving Izzy’s mug next to the stove. He took the other two to the table, sliding one to Faith. 

“So why was Israel annoyed with you this early?” she asked. 

“I said he was a good house husband.” 

“He is an excellent house husband,” Faith agreed. 

Izzy stared bleakly down at the potatoes. 

“Tell me more,” Lucius said eagerly. 

Why did they have to get along? It would be much easier if they could be like him and Lydia who politely loathed each other and never talked about Faith even a little unless she was ill. 

“When it’s his turn to do the laundry, he arranges my sock drawer by color,” Faith said with evident fondness laced through the amusement. “You know how I like to wear a fun sock.” 

“You do,” Lucius allowed.  

“So you can imagine it's a very complex rainbow. Let’s see....he vacuums very efficiently. Usually only after a bad day at work though. So it’s very angry vacuuming.” 

“How does someone vacuum angrily?”  

“I’m not sure how to explain it. You know it when you see it,” she laughed a little. “Oh, and he always remembers to clean out the filters in the dryer.” 

“Because I would like the house to not burn down,” Izzy grumbled. 

“And sometimes at night, he turns down the covers on the bed,” she said softly. “I like that.”

“That sounds sweet,” Lucius said in that half-sarcastic, half-sincere way that he couldn’t seem to avoid. 

“It is sweet.” Faith took a sip of her coffee. “Too bad for him that he’s the money maker and I get to work part-time if I feel like it.” 

“You never feel like it,” Izzy pointed out. 

“It’s boring. And I don’t like domestic chores,” she said lazily as if she wasn’t the one who had nurtured the enormous garden outside into life. 

“I’ll drink to that.”  There was a clink of coffee mugs touching. 

Izzy loved doing these things for her. Being of service, making her life easier was one of the great joys of his life. Sometimes he wasn’t sure she noticed things like her socks, but it was good. That she did. 

He shuffled the spatula under the potatoes, turning them over carefully. Sometimes after spending his day with numbers and criminals,  it was nice to just come home to a well-feathered nest. Maybe that did make him a house spouse. 

“Almost done,” he told them. 

“Uh oh,” Lucius said mildly. “We annoy you, Iz? You’ve got tense voice going.” 

“No,” he said honestly. “Just thinking.” 

“About what?” Faith asked. 

He turned to face them. Two very different bodies, both angled towards him, full focus on his face.  It was a lot to take in sometimes. Faith’s dear familiar interest and Lucius’ newer intense devouring. They made a nice picture, the two of them. Whatever dismissive sarcastic comment had been coming died on his lips. 

“I don’t mind making things nice,” he said instead. “For both of you.” 

And that got him very thoroughly kissed and it didn’t really matter by who. Even if it was both, one after the other.

[dinthehottotty]

Hunted and Haunted - Din Djarin

Warnings: Angst, Smut, Gore, Haunted!Din Djarin, primal play, blood play, unprotected sex, biting, blood as lube, pain kink, I'm just. . . Wow.... if I'm missing anything let me know. I think this is actually gn!reader too.

A/N: shout out to @shanediomorrissey for this amazing comic that inspired this. Btw, your wrist game is fire dude!

The first thing you notice upon entering the room is the chaos. People chopped to pieces, some still red hot from being cut through with the dark saber. The second thing is Din at the center of it all, hunched over a stormtrooper who's sputtering and struggling beneath him. The guy is spasming, flailing under Din's barely moving body.

Movement catches your eye from above and you glance up to watch a severed arm slowly slide off a hanging light that's still swaying some. It hits the floor with a fleshy smack.

"Holy shit," you whisper to yourself as you carefully pick your way towards your partner. "That dark saber is a doozey, huh?" You call out.

It's a crunch that accompanies the stormtrooper going still and you see Din jerk away from him. He's panting loudly with it, you can see the rise and fall of his shoulders. "Cyar'ika," he murmurs softly and your surprised by the smooth edge to his voice, unmodulated.

"Huh?" You ask. "Hey, Din, are you okay?"

He rises and turns, one hand still holding up the bottom of his helmet.

The gore startles you more than the sight of his mouth. Blood has painted his chest, his armor, soaked the clothing beneath. It streaks down his arms and you can make out a smeared hand print from where the trooper struggled. Said trooper's own armor is smeared and there is a little drip from the wound on his neck.

Din was just... eating him. You short circuit at the imagery feeling shame when you throb harshly between your legs at the sight. It was sick. You just stand there, blinking up at him, mouth gaped.

He steps closer, teeth pulled back in a snarl of sorts. You can see the fangs and your unsure if the one time you'd seen him without his helmet, that they were there. They had to have been, right? When he takes another step, you hear the blade sinking away. "Cyar'ika," he repeats, lifting his helmet off completely. There are dark streaks under his eyes that were not previously there. His face too pale, eyes too dark. "Run," he rumbles.

You're too stunned for a moment - not out of fear. Certainly, you should be absolutely terrified, especially when he looked like death himself. Your stunned at the violent thrill rolling deep in you belly.

"I'll hurt you, go. Now."

You can't explain the words that tumble from your mouth. You can't stop them either. They completely bypass your brain and fall from your mouth.

"Come chase me." His face grows wholy darker upon those words and neither of you immediately move, too startled by it. But the moment you take off he does too. You can hear the pounding of his boots on your heels and it shocks you how fun this feels. Dangerous, but wild.

He was probably going to pin you down and rip your throat out with his teeth like he did that stormtrooper. He was probably ill in some manner. This was wrong. So very fucked up that your body and mind were clouded with lust over it.

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you sprint through the secret imperial base. He's right on your heels the entire time, practically feeling his breath. You turn a corner just in time to slip past two troopers who twist to shoot.

Din roars with the rage of it. Furious at the blockade. The dark saber sings as it's opened. The troopers don't have time to shoot at him instead. One swing and there's a rolling head. The other fires off one shot just as Din splits him groin to head.

It's brutal. It's disgusting.

When he turns towards you, your trembling. Then you grin at him. This was a seriously fucked up game but you couldn't stop yourself. "You aren't running?" He demands, closing up the saber again.

You can't help the shiver that runs through you.. He shifts, ready to spring your way, one corner of his mouth tilting over his fangs. There's a little moment and your off again. One trooper you pass shouts in surprise, confused by you sprinting for your life but is cut off but the shriek of Din's blade. You don't stop that time. It's twisted. But you manage to lose him for a few seconds and slip into a dock. There's covered vehicles all around. You drop to your hip to slide beneath one and then jam yourself in further. You only have a second before his boots are pounding in behind you.

You suck a breath to hold it as he begins to prowl. "Little one," he calls tauntingly. "Come out." You're watching from beneath, his boots not even making noise as he begins climbing into vehicles and looking for you.

Your lungs are screaming already. You focus on breathing out slowly and quiet before sucking another breath to hold. Your heart is drumming against your rib cage as you twist onto your belly slowly. He's nearly on the other side when he finally drops to his own belly to look beneath all the vehicles. You flash him a grin, unable to help yourself and scramble out.

He's chasing you all over again. This time, his steps are harsher. You're sprinting as hard as you can down a long hallway. Nearing the end as you try to use a doorframe to sling shot your way into another when his arm finds you and snatches you back. He throws you. Literally and you hit the wall hard enough to knock the wind out of you.

"Caught you," he snarls out, a sick smirk spreading.

You give a moan when you can breathe again, pushing yourself away from the wall. You go to run again but he snatches you against him. You can smell the metallic tang of the blood he's coated with and then he's dragging you in a different direction.

You fight it because it's fun and your thrilled by his roughness. He opens a door, shoving you into a dark room hard enough you stumble. You don't expect the deepened groan he gives you. No more words. When he hits the button to close the door, he's glaring you down, teeth bared.

You make one last lunge around him but he tackles you to the ground with it. You whimper when he immediately snatches at the waist of your pants. "Are you going to eat me?"

It doesn't even make him pause as he wrenches your pants off completely and pries your legs wide open. Both aware that your referring to the type of eating that left that storm troopers throat shredded and not the kind that makes you pussy gush. He gives a rolling rumble before leaning over you to breathe in by your neck. "You'd like that wouldn't you?" You just nod.

Instead he sits up and shoves at his own flightsuit. When he wrenches it open and lifts one of your legs onto his shoulder. You see the way his lips peel away from his teeth in the low light of glowing controls on the far wall. They glint dangerously as his eyes find yours. The lunging shocks you and you cry out as his teeth sink deeply into the meat of your calf.

Din purrs against you and you can feel the suck of his mouth on you. It only lasts a moment before he's wrenching away. It burns and throbs. The blood flows up your leg when he does and his glove reaches out to collect. You pant beneath him, shaking as he smears it across your leg, then his hand is dipping inside his flight suit and you can hear the obscene noise of him slicking his cock with your blood.

Your stunned by the sweet sickness. By how dirty it was. You barely have time to process it before he's latching his mouth back on and slowly sinking into you. It hurts some, but that makes you twist tighter around him and he's trembling above you with restraint. "Fuck, didn't want to hurt you but you taste so fucking good. Why did you have to taunt me?" He snarls.

"Don't stop," you gasp and he ruts into you hard enough to send you up the grated floor some.

There's alarms that begin blaring, bathing the room in flashing red lights. Neither of you care, despite this being the worst place for you both to be screwing. You can't, not when he's filling you up so well. When he leans down to shove his mouth into yours you can taste the copper of it. It has you moaning into his mouth.

That seems to be the last straw before Din's pinning you to the floor, hips cantering, sawing into roughly. "Didn't want to hurt you," he rumbles again, hips crashing into yours so hard that you wondered if you might bruise tomorrow.

"And if I did?" You demand back, breathless. Din full stops above you, his eyes black holes of lust and shock as he stares over your face. Like this was the first real moment. Reality was setting in and your desperate to cling to this, clenching your pelvic muscles as tightly around him as possible, anguished in the need to have him finish.

Up until now you'd been partners in work and in friendship. Adoring the gentle dependability that might have been a little vanilla between you. Ignoring the desire to ruin him, break him apart in ways he'd never even imagined and taint him. It never occurred to you until now that Din might be holding back from just that.

So despite the blaring alarms and flashing red lights, you focus on hooding your eyes. "Do you want to corrupt me, Din Djarin?"

He drags in a ragged breath, watching you taste the bloody stain he'd kissed onto your lips. The Mandalorian bares his teeth down on you for a moment. "What do you want from me?"

"Take everything," you whimper. "Everything." Those fangs glint with all the red. They glisten. They glimmer. For a moment they look so beautiful with they're violent points. And then you feel them in your neck. Din crushes you to the floor, his hips digging deep. His cock stretching and impaling. He was feasting in two ways, ripping you apart.

It wasn't until the door open and a frightened stormtrooper entered that he yanked away to shoot him. The door slid shut as Din snarls back down on you. "I'm not done yet."

"Please," you beg as you tilt your head back to give him your neck. This was crazy, feral even. How were you expected not to. "I want it."

"Fuck, so full," he groans and drags you upright in his Lal. You cling to him, dizzy and disoriented. "But you taste so fucking good." Then he continues to gorge himself, rutting into you as he does. This times, his groans are growing louder, quicker. Those teeth clamp into you neck as you cry out in pain. There's a warm burst deep inside as he stills. He's blooming his spend into what your sure is a blood coated pussy.

It's good. It's delicious.

He laps at your neck on the comedown, slow and lazy despite the violence of his fucking. Its sweet in the hazy of his blood drinking. He gives a moan as he slips out of you. "Clean you up on the ship," he grunts. "Can you walk?"

Slowly, you nod at him, disappointed in your emptiness as you climb to your feet, it's on shaky legs that you draw your pants back up. Feeling the leaking fluids on your thighs as you do. "Is this whole-" you gesture to your teeth, "a normal thing for you?"

He shakes his head. "No, I don't know what's quote happening." That sends true fear to you bones upon seeing the haunting gaze. It takes him a moment to look at you. He'd bit you, several times. Most of the evidence still visible.

"Did you like it?" You ask.

It takes him a long moment to answer, moving to the door he opens it. And then calls out his answer over his shoulder. "Too much." An electric shiver runs through you and you feel dirty for the excitement coursing through your veins.

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